Damaged
by jcemad
Summary: Au. Alison DiLaurentis and Emily Fields are both damaged. But sometimes you just have to meet the right person and everything gets a little better. Emison.
1. Chapter 1

**There is no A and all of the characters know each other, except Alison, who's the new girl at school. Please let me know what you think. Leave reviews!**

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><p>Damaged.<p>

That's the one word that was most frequently used to describe Emily Fields. That is, when people weren't throwing around words like 'freak or murderer'. All of her life she'd felt like she had to try twice as hard to be half as good as anyone else. Maybe it was a natural feeling, all part and parcel of growing up, but she had a feeling it was more that than. As she looks around at the other students in the room, she wonders how many of them had felt this way. Like nothing you do is good enough. Like everyone looks down on you. Like you could do everything perfectly and people would still find some fault in it.

Not that she has ever been perfect. She's far from it, and she knows it. She's got more than her share of baggage, most of which she's never told anyone about, and a lot of which could tarnish her already trashed reputation. She doesn't need more accusing glares, more questions she can't answer and flaws she can't hide.

Normally she tries to keep her thoughts under control; she knows what it's like to let them run rampant in her mind, and she can't afford that kind of mess right now. She taps her pencil against the edge of the desk, agitated; these thoughts and this stress aren't good for her.

"How are you doing?"

The voice makes her jump. The pencil falls to the floor and she bends down to pick it up, internally grumbling. She has a feeling today is not going to be a good day. She straightens up, snaps the pencil in half, and turns to face the person speaking to her. Her best friend, Hanna Marin, is sliding into the seat beside her.

"I've been better," Emily replies. "You?"

I'm good." Hanna takes out her book and opens it to a random page in attempt to look busy when the teacher comes in.

"Hanna, we have a test today," Emily reminds her.

She frowns trying to remember, and then she sighs and puts her textbook back in her bag. "And suddenly I'm not so good."

Emily laughs as Hanna slumps back down in her seat, looking dejected. This doesn't last long, because a moment later a long haired boy walked in and Hanna's face lights up. She gets up to greet him, running a hand through his hair and gazing at him like she hasn't seen him in months.

"Hey babe," she croons, leaning towards him.

He leans forward and kisses her, and while they pull away he smiles at Emily; he waves in a greeting and then politely looks away as they go at it again. When the teacher comes in Caleb and Hanna take their seats beside each other, and Emily watches as the rest of the class files in. Toby nods his head in greeting as he walks through hand-in-hand with his girlfriend; Emily smiles in response watching them sit down on the other side of the room. Toby had gone through a rough time a few months ago, and it's nice to see him happy again.

The last student that walks through the door is a slim raven-haired girl whose eyes are brimming wit secrets she's just dying to spill. She sits down beside Hanna, tossing her hair back over her shoulder grinning. "Hi Hanna, Emily," she says.

"Aria," Emily greets her and she smiles quickly turning away to Hanna, lowers her voice, and starts talking about something that Emily can't quite hear.

The teacher arrives moments later, setting up his briefcase on the desk and pulling out a pile of papers. A sort of inaudible groan radiates through the room; even Aria, who's one of the top students in the class, seems displeased at having to take a test. The teacher gestures to the nearest student and asks them to hand out the tests, which they do with obvious reluctance.

Emily leans back in her chair, fiddling absently with her pen and already wishing the day was over. She has a test now, and next period she has to give a presentation- a group presentation, no less- and she's pretty sure no one in his group prepared for it. She suppresses a sigh and turns to Hanna to ask if she's done any of the work for the presentation, but the words die in her throat as one last student walks through the door.

Her first thought is that she's the most beautiful girl she's ever seen. Her second thought is that she would never look twice at a girl like her. And her third is that she's now been staring a her for almost a minute, at which point she lowers her gaze and pretends to read the graffiti on the desk. Out of the corner of her eyes she can see the girl approach the teacher, hand him a piece of paper, nod as he asks her a question. Then she hoists her bag up further up on her shoulder, smiles at the teacher, and makes her way to one of the many spare desks in the room. _It was actually a full class, but on test days the population dropped to about three- quarters maximum._

She's two rows ahead of her, but the desk between is empty. As she goes to sit down she raises her eyes and feels daring enough to sneak another look at her. She as ice-blue eyes, long golden locks, and a haunted look about her. As she pulls a pen out of her bag and sets it neatly at the top of her desk, perfectly parallel to hedge, she notices that her hands are shaking. She sits up straight, eyes locked on the board at the front of the class, ignoring all the whispers shooting around the room. They haven't had new kid in a long time, so she'll be news until the next scandal sweeps the school.

Emily is still looking at her when the teacher taps his pen on the board to get everyone's attention. "You have one hour to complete this test. Phones off, eyes forward. Good luck everyone."

Everyone gets to work, some more reluctantly than others, but Emily watches as the teacher walks down the room, stopping at the new girls desk. He bends down and says something quietly to her; she nods, then pulls a novel out of her bag and starts reading. She's exempt from the test, although she's probably not the only one in the room who doesn't have a clue about the content.

After a few minutes Emily manages to jerk her attention away from her and focus on her test, which, thankfully is multiple choice. She runs out of time and has to guess the last few, but she hands in the test and leaves the room she's reasonably confident that she at least passed, and that's all she needs in order to graduate.

Out in the hall she falls into step beside Hanna, who snakes her hand around Caleb's neck, while Aria rolls her eyes behind their back. Hanna stands on her tiptoes to kiss Caleb again, and Emily takes it as her cue to step back. They've been dating or almost a year now, and they still can't keep their hands off each other. While the very closeted hopeless romantic in her finds it cute, most of her is just uncomfortable. She walks beside Aria, who is just as over their PDA.

"Did you see the new girl?" Aria asks leaning against her locker.

"I saw her," Emily replies. She's not sure why, but the thought of her makes his heartbeat quicken. She hasn't felt this way in a long time; she wants to get to know her, even though part of her knows that she will probably bee too scared to actually talk to her. "What's her story?"

Aria's eyes widen. "You haven't heard?"

She shakes her head, knowing Aria will be thrilled at the chance to share gossip with her. She loves being the first to know anything, and more than that she loves everyone knowing that she is the first to know it.

"They say it's a tragic story," she says, "although nobody knows the full details."

"What do they know?"

"Well." Aria stops. After she puts her textbook in her locker she leans up against the wall and gives a dramatic sigh. "They say she was kidnapped. Held hostage by some psychopath. Somehow she escaped and she hasn't said a word since."

Emily is not a talkative person. She expresses herself in the silence, through her eyes and her face is very expressive. And now she falls into a contemplative silence, feeling her heart break for this girl she has yet to meet. She can't even begin to imagine the horrors she's been through, and she knows she would never be able to help. She can't even muster up the courage to talk to her.


	2. Chapter 2

The next time she sees her is two days later, in the same class. She sits in her usual, seat, Hanna beside her and Caleb and Mona further down the row. Emily has been trying not to think about _her_, but she can't get her face out of her mind. Rumors have been spreading like a wildfire around the school, and for once she makes an effort to listen; but it's all so jumbled and confusing that she can't make any sense of it. Everyone has theories about her, and since she refuses to talk there's no way to dispel or prove any of them. All they know for sure is that her name is Alison DiLaurentis, her family's from Philadelphia, and she's gone through something unspeakably awful.

There is one other thing she knows about her. She know that whenever she tried to approach her, her legs get wobbly and her hands shake, and this bothers her. Despite her friendship with Hanna and the rest of the group, she's not that interested in human company. She's a loner, and she likes it that way. So why does she get excited - in a terrified, trembling sort of way - at the thought of talking to her? She has some kind of power over her, even though they've never met, and it both bothers and intrigues her.

At the end of class she gathers her nerves and walks up to her, but before she can so much as open her mouth someone bumps into her from behind and she goes toppling forward, crashing into her and causing her to drop all of her books. The person behind her snickers and keeps walking, and Emily rights herself, flushed.

"I'm so sorry," she stammers, reaching down to pick up her books.

She bends down too, but doesn't acknowledge her apology. She just snatched up her books, gives her a sort of a panicked look, and then flees from the room. She stares after her, unsure what just happened. But then she shakes herself out of her reverie an heads out the door.

She reaches her chemistry class just a minute before the teacher, who gives her a disapproving glare as she slides into her seat beside Spencer.

"You're late," she comments as she pulls out her books.

"I know." she doesn't offer any more explanation, and she doesn't ask.

As they start taking down notes that the teacher is feverishly scribbling on the board _he's under the impression that students are actually interested in his subject. _Spencer leans over and writes on Emily's paper.

_Are you free Friday?_

She pauses, the writes back.

_Depends who's asking._

Spencer reads the message, then looks up at her and rolls her eyes. She glances at the teacher, considers whispering, and then decides writing is safer. She's already had a couple of run-ins with the principal this year; any more and she may risk being removed from the debate team.

_There's a party at Noel's cabin. Toby and I are going. Do you want to come?_

She's not a social person by nature, but whenever Spencer bats her eyelashes she finds that her willpower drains away and she almost wants to talk to people.

_I'll be there._

She beams at this response, and then starts doodling on her page. By the end of the class Spencer's drawn a surprisingly accurate sketch of their teacher, an anime-style kitten with ridiculously wide eyes.

At lunch she is uncharacteristically quite. She sits with her friends, but everyone is too distracted to notice that she's not herself. Hanna and Caleb are deep in conversation, talking so low she can't quite hear. Noel, Aria's current love interest, is leaning against the edge of the table, while she flips her hair and laughs at all his jokes. Emily doesn't say a word beyond greeting all of them; she just sits down and picks at her food.

A few minutes after she arrives, a murmur sweeps across the cafeteria. She glances up, wondering what's happening, and for a moment she can't see the source of the commotion. But the crowd parts and she sees her. Alison.

She's standing in the doorway, looking uncertain. She's holding her tray so tightly her hands are shaking with the effort. In front of her is a group of boys from their grade, and before Emily even has time for anything more than a flicker of unease, one of these boys reaches out and deliberately knocks Alison's tray to the floor. The contents, which had been neatly stacked and organized, topple to the ground and scatter at her feet.

Without thinking, Emily jumps to her feet, ignoring Aria's cry of 'Where are you going?', marches over to the group. A few people step out of her way, well aware of her reputation and unwilling to incite a confrontation, but the main guy, Chris, doesn't even blink.

"Go back to where you came from, slut," Chris says to Alison.

Emily inserts herself in between them, using her body as a shield in case Chris tries to touch her. For a tense moment nobody moves.

"What do you want freak?" Chris laughs, like he's said something witty, and his group laughs along with him, although some of them look less than thrilled.

"I want you to leave her alone." Emily's voice is close to a growl, and it makes Chris stiffen. Emily doesn't normally talk to people much, and very few people have seen this side of her. She can be very intimidating when she wants to; add her impressive physical presence to her reputation, however untrue, and most people take a step back with she looks them in the eye.

Chris stands his ground, but he looks a little less sure of himself.

"You don't want to get into this with me," Emily warns. "Walk away."

The crowd who up until know have been silent, begin to talk among themselves. Some even take bets on who they think would back down; most people said it was going to be Emily, but a few brave souls put their money on Chris.

An eternity passes. Emily can sense Alison behind her, and she can faintly hear her sniffling. She wonders if she's crying but doesn't look back. She needs to keep her eyes on Chris, or she may not be able to bluff her way out of it.

Finally Chris relents. He passes it off as being bored, but everybody knows that this is for all intents and purposes, a defeat. "Lets go," he mutters to his friends, "this place is lame."

They walk out of the cafeteria, leaving stunned silence in their wake. Emily notices that a few people are looking at her with new respect, while others' eyes are filled with fear. She doesn't really care either way. She just needs to know Alison's safe. But when she turns around to ask her if she's okay, she's already gone.


	3. Chapter 3

If Emily had been like other girls her age, she would have spent all day getting ready for Noel's party, or hating every outfit she picked, or coming up with elaborate lies to tell her parents so she'd be allowed to be out after dark. But that wasn't like her, and in fact she's forgotten that she's even going to the party. She spent the day swimming training for her next big meet at a local rec. Technically she should be at school, but she doesn't mind skipping a day here or there if he mood takes her - which often does. It's not like anyone is here to notice she skip school anyways.

She's taking a break wiping her face with her towel, when her cell goes off. It takes her a while to locate it; that morning when inspiration hit she'd been too excited to pay much attention to anything other than swimming, and she tossed her phone somewhere to get started. She was like that, when it came to swimming. It was her passion, her driving force, even if inspiration came in the middle of the night or the middle of school, she'd drop everything and get to a pool.

She locates her cell - it's under one of the benches - and reads the message.

**Where are you? - Spencer**

For a moment she's puzzled, and then she groans. Noel's party. She checks the time and realized she was meant to be there an hour ago. She considers telling Spencer that she can't go after all, but just the thought of upsetting her is enough to deter her and Toby. Still, it's not quite enough to prompt her to change her clothes, or put ant haste into her effort to get there.

Twenty minutes later she pulls up outside of Noel's cabin. The party is in full swing, all the bright lights and high spirits. She doesn't recognize many of the people, but that doesn't surprise her; Noel is one of the most popular kids in school, and any party he throws with under a hundred people turning up is what he deems 'a disgraceful failure'. Emily hasn't had much to do with him, but he seems nice enough. Aria certainly likes him, although weather that's a strike against him or a point in his favor. Emily's not sure.

It's easy to pick out the people she knows here, but harder to find any she actually wants to talk to. She's done almost a couple of laps around the entire party, which extends all through the cabin and even into the surrounding land, before she actually catches sight of Spencer over by the drinks table. She's already smiling, laughing at something the girl next to her ha said, but her smile widens as she sees Emily.

"You came!" she exclaims happily, throwing her arms around her neck and splashing some sort of liquid down her shirt in the process.

She returns the hug then steps back, trying to wipe the alcohol off her shirt. It smells faintly like coconut, and isn't altogether unpleasant.

"Oh my god, I'm sorry," Spencer says, trying to wipe it off with her sleeve of her jacket. This only serves to spread the stain further, and after a half-hearted effort she gives up trying and starts laughing instead. "I'm really sorry, I just -"

"It's fine, Spencer," she assures her, more amused than annoyed. She's not quite drunk, but she's definitely not sober. She makes a note to keep a eye on her - sometimes she doesn't know when to stop, and it's been known to get her into trouble - as she helps herself to a cup of the punch. She doesn't know if it's alcoholic of not, although she assumes it is; it doesn't bother her either way, since the only reason she is truly here is because Spencer had asked her to come.

Spencer turns back to the ground of friends she was talking to, and Emily stays where she is, unsure what to do. Her gaze drifts around the party, and sees a few people she might say hello to later. Hanna and Aria are over by the hot tub, the former frowning over her cell and the later practically drooling over Noel, who's doing shots with a group of guys Emily doesn't know. A little way away are Mona and Lucas, with whom Emily is on relatively friendly terms with.

She was about to go over to Lucas and Mona when she notices a lone figure on the edge of the trees. She's sitting on a wooden bench, head titled to the side as she watches the going-on, and she can't tell if Alison is bored or amused. She's the only one by herself, which makes her curious at once, and then she looks up and her heart skips a beat as she sees that it is Alison.

"Spencer, she says, tugging at her sleeve, "what's she doing here?"

"Hm?" Spencer says, turning around and follower her gaze. She blinks, trying to see who she's looking at, and then says, "Who, the new girl? I invited her."

That doesn't surprise her. Spencer always goes out of her way to make everyone feel welcome, so reaching out with an invitation isn't out of her character. What does surprise her is the fact that Alison would actually accept the invitation. She hasn't seemed like she was interested in much social interaction, and her behavior now doesn't really suggest she's a social butterfly. So what is she doing here?

"Come on, I'll introduce you," Spencer offers, grabbing Emily's arm and pulling her forward.

"What?" She stops and yanks her arm away. She wants her to talk to her? What is she supposed to say? 'Hi I'm Emily, Rosewood's black sheep, feel free to hate me because most other people do'?

Spencer keeps going, but she stumbles after a few paces. Automatically Emily darts forward and catches her, and before she knows it she's grabbing her hand dragging Emily over to the wooden bench. They come to a stop in front of Alison, who looks up at them with polite puzzlement.

"Hi Alison," Spencer chirps. "I'd like you to meet someone."

She pushes Emily forward. She stands in silence for a few seconds, trying to gather her courage, but Spencer talks before she has a chance.

"This is my friend Emily. Have you guys met?"

"Alison shakes her head, and Emily tries to read her expression. She doesn't exactly look thrilled, but she's not upset either. She's.. _wary, _is the best way she can think to put it.

"Great!" Spencer beams. "Why don't you two -"

She's interrupted by the arrival of Toby. "Hi!" Toby says cheerfully, putting his hand around her, Spencer smiling at all of them. He whispers something in Spencer's ear, which makes her giggle.

"I have to go now," Spencer says, evidently intrigued by whatever it is Toby suggested. She runs her hand through Toby's hair. Then she turns back to Emily and Alison. "You guys play nice, okay?"

Emily opens her mouth to tell her not to go, to ask what the heck she's meant to do now, but Spencer and Toby are already skipping off, too lost in their bliss to spare a thought for her and her predicament. Once they're gone it becomes unbearably silent, but for the life of her she can't think of a single thing to say eventually she settles for a smile, which Alison returns warily.

"Mind if I sit here?" she asks after another awkward silence, gesturing to the bench.

She shrugs, but slides over to make room for her. She sits down beside her, clasping her hands and looking at the ground. She's sitting here, beside the girl she's been thinking about for days. She could talk to her. She's close enough to touch her, although she knows she won't. Anxiety bubbles up in her, becoming a river that washes away any coherent sentences and most of her vocabulary. Still, she's here, with Alison.

She's not sure weather this is a dream come true or a nightmare about to happen.

The silence has stretched on for an unbearably long time. Emily keeps looking around for Spencer, who's much better with social situations than she is, but at the moment she's probably in some shadowy corner with Toby. She turns to Alison, opening her mouth, but the words die in her throat and she turns away again without saying anything. Another few minutes slip by, during which Emily stares resolutely at the ground and Alison fiddles with her nearly empty cup. "So, are you, um, having a good time?"

By no means is this brilliant, but she hopes it's better than silence. Alison's eyes flick up to hers, startled. She wonders if she's just surprised she had finally spoken, or if she'd actually forgotten she was there. There's something distant about her; even when she meets her eyes, she doesn't feel like she's really looking at her. It's like she's looking through her, and it makes her suddenly self-conscious. She shrugs, as much of an answer as she was expecting, and looks away again.

"I wasn't actually going to come tonight," she offers. She doesn't looks at her, but she shifts her body slightly towards her, indicating that she's listening. "But Spencer asked me to come, and I didn't want to let her down."

Alison doesn't respond, but she hadn't expected her to. Yet she's still sitting here, and she makes no move to leave. She takes that as a good sign, even though her very presence is enough to make her hands tremble. Emily leans back, watching a group of girls on the grass a few yards away attempt to make a human pyramid. They fail miserably, collapsing on the ground in a heap of giggles, and she chuckles. There's a sound to her left, and when she turns to look she sees that Alison, too, is laughing.

They fall into silence again, but some of the awkwardness has been broken by the shared moment of mirth. After a while she asks tentatively, almost scared to hear the answer, "Do you- do you want me to leave?"

Alison considers this for one heart-pounding moment. If she wants her to leave, she will; but she'll wish she hadn't, and she'll wonder what about her was so repulsive that she didn't want Emily to stay. Then, slowly, she shakes her head.

"I'm sorry," Emily mumbles. "I don't normally talk so much."

She turns to her, and now Emily knows she's smiling. She's not sure why, but it's encouraging, and it's one of the most beautiful things she's ever seen. Maybe she's really interested, or maybe she's just being polite. Either way, she'll take it.

"I'm going to get another drink," she says cautiously. She's worried that if she leaves this whole scene will dissipate and she'll come back to empty space. "Do you - would you like one?"

She shakes her head, staring down at her empty cup. Emily nods in response, getting to her feet. She takes a few steps, and then she turns back.

"Would it... would it be okay if I came back afterwards?" she asks.

Her smile fades a little, like she's surprised, but she doesn't seem upset. She nods, and she feels her heart soar. As she walks over to the drinks table she gives the logical side of her brain free rein. Alison doesn't loathe her company, but that doesn't mean she wants to be her friend. She shouldn't read so much into everything; she should back off, relax, and just let things happen.

But as she walks back to where Alison is sitting, logic takes an immediate backseat. Sitting beside her is none other than Chris, the creep who'd harassed her at school the other day. Her stomach lurches and the drink falls from her hand. She clenches her fist and walks over to them, using all her self-control in an effort not to punch Chris right away.

"Chris." Her voice is nothing more than a growl, and it makes Chris jerk his head up to look at her.

"Hey Emily," Chris slurs, even as he edges closer to Alison. "Having a good night?"

Emily doesn't answer. "What are you doing?"

Alison shifts away from Chris, stiffening. It's clear she's uncomfortable, but Emily isn't sure whether Chris doesn't take notice or doesn't care. Chris stands up, and Emily forces herself not to take s step back. The guy is bigger than her, but he's also more intoxicated. Emily could take him if it came to it, although she'd prefer to avoid that. _She could take him because of the fact he can't hit a girl._

"Chill, gurl," Chris says. "I'm not doing anything wrong."

"I am not your 'girl'" Emily glares at him , and over her shoulder she can see Alison stand up. She tries to keep Chris distracted long enough for her to leave. "Chris, just clear off okay? Go get drunk with your football buddies or something. You're not welcome over here."

"Lighten up." Chris turns back to Alison, who's only managed to make it a few paces away. She freezes, like a rabbit caught in the highlights. "She wants me here. Don't you?"

Her eyes flicker between them; she looks trapped, scared, almost like she's about to cry. She tries to take another step, but Chris' hand shoots out and grabs her arm. The action makes her jump, and a second later a tear trickles down her cheek. She's shaking so much she doesn't even try to brush it away.

"Alison," Emily says, hardly aware that it's the first time she's said her name. "Do you want him here?"

She shakes her head, nervously at first and the more vigorously as his grip on her arm tightens.

"Great." Emily doesn't give herself time to think about the implications or the consequences. She just acts on instinct; it's all she's got going for her at the moment.

She flies out and connects with Chris' face. There's a strange time delay, catching them all in a tableau: Emily looking surprised with herself, Chris realizing what's happening, Alison's eyes widen in shock. Then Chris crumples, dropping to the ground and covering his face with his hands and letting out a low moan. A crowd begins to gather, drunkenly amused at the commotion, although most of them have no idea what's happened. A couple people even cheer.

"Stay away from her," Emily says firmly. Chris doesn't move his hands; his reply is muffled, but sounds like a reluctant agreement.

Emily knows she's gone too far. She has no right t be so protective of someone she doesn't even know, and her burst of violence has probably startled Alison. She doesn't look at her as she says, "You should probably get out of here."

She turns to leave, walking away from the mess she's just created. She's only gone a few steps when she hears someone following her, and before she can register what's going on Alison's come up beside her.

For a long moment neither of them does anything. Alison's eyes dart back to Chris, who is still lying in a heap on the ground. Nobody has made a move to help him. Then her attention turns back to Emily, and she opens her mouth.

She clears her throat, nervously licks her lips, and then, in a voice hoarse from lack of use, she says the first words she's said in two years.

"Thank you."


	4. Chapter 4

As surprised as Emily is, Alison is even more so. Her eyes fly open as if she's startled herself, and she stares at the ground at Emily's feet, like she's picturing her words landing there and expecting her to trample them. Then, before Emily can so much as move a muscle, Alison turns around and walks off, her hair bouncing around her shoulders and her steps quick but uneven, like she's trying not to lose her footing.

"Wait!" she calls, beginning to race after her. She starts, and realizes her mistake: she's skittish as it is, without having to worry about some stranger chasing her. She slows her steps and says more softly, "Wait, please."

She doesn't slow down until she's gone around the cabin. When Emily turns the corner she's leaning against the wall, pressing her fist to her mouth looking like she's trying not to cry.

"Hey," Emily says gently, coming to a stop a few feet away from her. She knows better than to touch her, but she wishes desperately that she could hug her. "What's wrong?"

She looks up and then away again quickly, like she's scared of meeting her eyes.

"What happened back there -" she gestures toward where Chris is presumably still crumpled on the ground "- I'm sorry about that. I shouldn't have done it."

She sniffles a little, then dabs at her eyes with the corner of her sleeve. "No," she agrees quietly, without looking at her, "you shouldn't have."

She's startled into stillness at hearing her speak again. Even her heartbeat seems to slow down, and she's terrified to even breathe for fear of making her take off again. She thinks of her like a butterfly, ready to take flight at the slightest disturbance.

Alison turns to her, and her barely-beating heart starts to go double time. She's still not quite meeting her eyes, but somehow seems just a little less distant. "But I'm glad you did."

It takes more time than it should for this comment to register. Emly's thrown off by the way the light is dancing on her face, by the way her eyelashes are fluttering, by the way she's angling her body just a little more towards her.

"You - you are?" she says when the words finally connect to her brain.

"Yeah." She looks like she wants to say more, but she falls again into silence.

Emily covers the distance between them, watching her reaction in case she should startle her, and leans back against the wall beside her. She's close enough to touch her, close enough to smell her perfume, and it's all she can do to keep herself still. She lets a few beats of silence pass before she speaks.

"I was surprised to see you here," she says. "Not that I'm not happy you came. I just mean... I didn't really think this was your scene."

"It's not, she admits. She lets her gaze drift across the lake, the moonlight reflecting in her eyes. Then she lets out a small laugh. "My mom actually talked me into coming. She thought it would be 'beneficial to my metal wellbeing', as she puts it."

"So you didn't want to come?"

"No at all," she says, shaking her head. "I thought it was going to be terrible."

"Has it been?" she's surprised by her daring, but it doesn't seem to faze her.

Alison gives her a sideways look, the ghost of a smile tugging at her lips. "Not entirely."

She barley has time to let the words sink in, feeling a sliver of pleasure rise up in her, before she's pulled her cell from her pocket letting out a sigh.

"My mom's picking me up in five minutes," she says. "I should -"

"Of course," she says quickly, watching as she begins to walk away.

Emily doesn't want her to leave. In fact she'd do just about anything to have her stay. She has the sudden irrational fear that tonight has been one big fluke; she feels that she'll never get this moment back, that once she walks away that will be the end of it. The spell will be broken, tonight's magic forgotten, and she may never hear her speak again.

"Thanks again," she says, pausing at the corner of the cabin.

Emily smiles in response, the words caught in her throat. She walks around the edge and out of sight, and she stays where she is, still caught in her spell. Then she breaks out of it and hurries around the cabin. She's a few yards away, but she stops when Emily calls out to her.

"I'm glad you come tonight."

She turns back to her with a smile that takes her breath away. Then starts walking again, and within a few seconds she's lost in the crowd. But her words drift back to her in the wind.

"Me too."


	5. Chapter 5

Having spent all weekend doing nothing, Emily approaches school on Monday with a slightly more optimistic attitude than usual. The party on Friday night had put her in high spirits.

After Alison had left on Friday, Emily had caught up with Spencer and Toby, who'd put their make-out session on hold long enough to help him find Mona and Lucas. She'd spent a couple of hours hanging up with them, but eventually Lucas had passed out in front of the fireplace and Mona had hooked up with some guy from the swim team. Emily had been one of the first to leave, but it was almost three by the time she got home.

She takes the steps up to school two at a time, surprised by her sudden good mood. She doesn't have a spring in her step and she's not whistling a cherry tune, but it's as close to chipper as Emily's been known to get. Halfway down the hall Hanna comes up beside her, shoving a mess of books and paper into her purse.

"How was Noel's party?" Hanna asks brightly, slowing her pace to match Emily's.

"It was fun," Emily says, giving Hanna a sideways look. Hanna's hair is slightly messy, and her lipstick is smudged. No wonder she's in such a good mood.

"Holdup." Hanna grabs Emily's arm and pulls her to a stop, spinning her around so that they're face-to-face. "Did Emily Fields just admit to having fun?"

Hanna's eyes are dancing, and her tone is teasing. It is a well-known fact that Emily isn't really one for spontaneity or socializing, and even Emily herself can't remember the last time she admitted to having fun. The closet she's come is how she feels when she's swimming, but fun doesn't seem quite the word to describe it.

"I guess I did," Emily replies lightly, shrugging out of Hanna's grip and continuing down the hall. Hanna hurry's to catch up with her.

"I heard a rumor," Hanna goes on as they turn the corner and head toward their lockers.

"Yeah?"

"Word on the street is that you and Chris Miller had an... altercation."

Emily shrugs, ducking around a group of freshman who are gossiping over some vapid celebrity magazine. "For once, the rumor mill is accurate."

"Really?"

Glancing over at her friend, Emily is surprised to see that she is more amused than suspicious.

"I heard you actually punched him." Hanna says, almost hopefully, "right in the gut."

"Don't be ridiculous," Emily says, taking a moment to enjoy the way Hanna's face falls. "I punched him in the face."

Hanna comes to a complete stop, a look of incredulous admiration spreading across her face. She seems to be debating giving Emily a huge hug, but decides against it. Instead she just grin, "You, my friend are a legend."

"And you are going to be late to class if you don't get a move on," Emily points out, not breaking stride.

She doesn't want to let on, but she's pleased by the attention. It's the first time in a longtime that someone has looked at her with surprise that isn't mingled with disappointment or disgust, and she want to enjoy this moment. In fact, she enjoys most of the day. Some pessimistic part of her is convinced that this is a bad sign - since when is Emily _happy_ and did she just _smile_? - but she tries not to let it get to her.

Her next class is the one she shares with Alison. She hasn't seen her since Friday, and when she walks in the door she's not sure how she should act. Should she speak to her? Smile at her? Pretend the party never happened? She leans back in her chair and decides to let her take the lead.

Alison seems a little more sure of herself, although Emily is not quite sure what gives her that impression. She still walks with her eyes downcast, avoiding the curious gazes of her peers, and she doesn't say a word as she takes her seat two rows ahead. But there's something ever so slightly different, and she can tell she's not the only one who's noticed. Aria, who's beside Alison, smiles at her and even strikes up a conversation, and Alison doesn't shy away from her. Instead she returns her smile and nods, seemingly listening to what she's saying.

"Em," Hanna says, dragging her attention from the girls in front of her, "there's a group of us going bowling tonight. You in?"

She shrugs. Normally she would say no; even though she likes the group, socializing takes precious time away from other pursuits, such as swimming. But Hanna has sensed that she's in a good mood today, and maybe this is her way of encouraging it. "I'll see," Emily says, as close to an agreement as she's comfortable with.

Hanna nods, satisfied, and turns back to Caleb. Emily lets her gaze wander around the room, assessing the damage from the part. Toby and Spencer are as close as ever - they're sitting beside each other, doing their best to involve Alison in their conversation - but many couples aren't so lucky. She notices that some guy has his arm around Mona, and Aria is leaning against Noel's desk, twirling a strand of hair around her finger and pretending not to see the way his eyes flicker between her mouth and a place somewhat lower on her body.

But for every new romance that blossoms, an old relationship seems to have died. A group of girls by the door are glaring at Sean Ackard, who keeps his eyes forward and ignores them; Emily heard that Sean was caught making out with Susan from the swim team, when everyone knows he's dating Macey, the field hockey captain. And two guys sitting in the back keep shooting glares at a little blonde sitting a few rows ahead; the rumor is that she'd refused to have sex with her long-time boyfriend James Littleton, but was later found giving it up to Dan Turner, who was a year below her and_ so_ not her type.

With a start, Emily realizes what this means. She remembers all these details because, for the first time, she is actually engaged with her peers. She's listening to their stories, to the gossip she normally avoids like a plague, and she's actually on board. She knows she is still distinctly different, but she feels almost like she belongs.

Her epiphany is cut short as the teacher, Mr. Marsters, blusters in, looking like he'd been in the middle of getting ready when he was called into work. Mr. Marsters hurries over to his desk, jamming his glasses haphazardly on his nose and ranking a hand through his hair. He glances up in mild surprise at the room full of students who are staring at him in silence, taking in his disheveled appearance with apparent confusion and delight.

"Get your mind out of the gutter, guys, it's not what you think," he mumbles, pulling a book out of the top drawer of his desk and setting it in front of him. He looks up again, about to start marking the roll, but when he sees everyone still watching him he shakes his head slightly. "If you most know, the reason I look like I just got dragged through the woods by a pack of mischievous raccoons is because I just came from the hospital where my wife is currently in labor. Any questions?"

Several students shake their heads and a few offer him congratulations. He smiles distractedly, sifting through a pile of staplers, scissors, and rubber bands until he unearths a pen.

"Sean Ackard?" he asks, tapping the pen against his glasses and peering at the class.

"Present."

"Macey Albury?" Tap, tap.

"Here."

After Emily's name is called she tunes out again. It will take a couple of minutes to go through the roll; there are invariably some student who tune out before their names are called, and Mr. Marsters has to repeat them until they snap back into reality.

"Alison DiLaurentis."

Emily tunes back in. Alison raises her hand, and the teacher nods in acknowledgement. But then something happens that causes the class to collectively gasp: in a clear, ringing voice, Alison says, "Present."

Nobody is quite sure how to react. Mr. Marsters does a double-take, looking at her bewilderment; Toby and Spencer exchange a startled glance. This is the first time most of the people in the room have heard her speak, and everyone has heard rumors about her - that she'd been kidnapped, and even though that was years ago, she hasn't said a word since. To hear her speak so plainly, so openly, was more than anyone was expecting.

A confused murmur ripples through the room, and before it has time to settle, Alison rotates in her seat so that she's looking at Emily. She meets her eyes for a moment, smiles, and turns calmly back to the front of the room, like this is the most natural thing in the world. Emily stares at her back, her heart hammering in her chest.

Hanna leans over to her, raising her eyebrows. "Do you know her?"

Emily shrugs. She doesn't know her, not really. They've had one conversation, and her past is still very much a mystery. She's interested in Alison, intrigued by her, but she doesn't know her. She's not sure it's possible for anyone to know her; she doesn't need to know the details of Alison's past to understand that she, too, is damaged, and that she has closed herself off to human contact. The fact that she's apparently speaking again is a good sign, but she can't help but wonder if she's gone too far to be able to let anyone in - if she even wants to, that is.

Mr. Marsters clears his throat to diffuse the tension, but people continue staring at Alison, some of them flicking their eyes between her and Emily as if they're trying to work out their connection. She's still trying to work it out herself. What are they, friends? Acquaintances? Classmates? She'd thought Alison only talked to her because she'd been polite enough to keep her company at the part, or maybe because she'd been stupid enough to punch Chris. But the way she'd smiled at her just now made Emily wonder... had it been something more?

As the teacher keeps marking the roll, the whispers continue. Alison keeps her head high and pretends not to listen to them. Emily is still trying to make sense of what just happened, but before she's come to any solid conclusion, an announcement crackles over the PA system.

"Would Emily Fields please report to the principal's office. I repeat, Emily Fields to the principal's office. Thank you."

As the static fades away, Emily realizes that the entire class is staring at her. She hears a few muttered questions - 'What has she done now? - but she ducks her head and ignores them. Mr. Marsters nods at her and Emily quickly slips from her seat and hurries to the door. A few people try to get her attention on the way, but she reaches the hall without reacting to any of them.

The walk to the principal's office is one with which she's unpleasantly familiar. She's been down this way many times, but it seems longer today. She wonders what she could have done this time. It wasn't because she'd stood up to Chris the other day in the cafeteria, was it? Had the school somehow found out about what she'd done at the party? Could they even punish her for doing something off school property?

When she reaches the office door her heart is beating so fast she's surprised it hasn't imploded yet. The secretary sends her straight in, but she hesitates just outside the principal's office.

"It's okay," the secretary says, seeming amused. "He's not going to bite."

Emily grimaces, but she pushes the door open and steps through anyway. Waiting inside is the principal, seated at his desk regarding Emily calmly of his fingers, which are clasped together. To Emily's surprise there's someone sitting in font of the desk; his back is to Emily, but she recognizes him anyway. It's been a long time since she saw him, but she'd recognize him anywhere.

He turns around slowly, and Emily find herself face-to- face with the last person she would ever want to see.


	6. Chapter 6

The DiLaurentis household is strangely quite. It's Monday morning, the start of Alison's second week of school. Her parents have already left for work, and her brother is still asleep. This suits Alison well, because she isn't in the mood for any social interaction - at least not with her family. She sits herself down at the kitchen counter with a cup of coffee and a slice of toast, and tries to brace herself for what is going to happen today.

She'd been shocked when Spencer had showed up on her doorstep Thursday afternoon, laden with a welcome basket for the DiLaurentis family and a party invitation for Alison. Mrs. DiLaurentis had been thrilled by the welcome and excited by the invitation. "Alison, honey, you should go! It will be a good chance to bond with your peers. You do want to fit in, don't you?"

Her mother had worn her down, and Alison had agreed to go. She knew the past couple years have been hard for her family. At first they'd been overjoyed to have her home, but she has a feeling they thought she'd just slip right back into their glamorous suburban lifestyle, as if she'd never been away. When she'd refused to talk they'd sent her to five different therapists, none of whom had made any progress. Eventually they'd uprooted themselves and moved here, to quaint little Rosewood. Her father had been a little reluctant _"Jessica, didn't you hear that girl died there last year? Do we really want to move there after... everything?"_ but as usual her mother had prevailed _"Nonsense, dear, they caught the killer months ago._

She'd arrived at the party later than most people, so it was in full swing by the time she got there. The noise, the activity, the people - it has been unsettling. But her mother had nudged her out of the car, waved and smiled, and promised to be back in two hours. The prospect of those two hours was daunting. Here she was, more of an outsider than ever, expected to find something in common with these people who were loud, too joyful, so unfamiliar with the darker side of the world that they could never understand who she was or what she'd been through.

She'd settled for sitting by herself, away from as many people possible. That way she'd be able to tell her mother she'd gone to the party, and still be able to avoid the panic attacks that had sporadically plagued her walking hours since the day she escaped. In some ways they were even worse than the nightmares, because at least with those she could open her eyes and be somewhere else.

By the time she'd been there an hour and a half she was mind-numbingly bored. She was absently watching the drunken antics of her peers and reciting poetry in her mind just to keep herself occupied. She was halfway through Edgar Allan Poe's _The Raven_ when Spencer bounded up, Emily in tow, and introduced them. Although she'd been startled at first, it had actually turned out to be a good thing.

She finishes her toast, downs a glass of orange juice, and swings her bag over her shoulder. There's no one to say goodbye to - or, in her case, wave goodbye to - so she just heads out the door and slides into her car. On the way to school she relives Friday right in her head, still not convinced it wasn't a dream.

After Spencer had left and Emily sat down, Alison had tried her best to ignore her. She'd been the one to protect her from Chris in the cafeteria, and she was grateful for that; but Emily was still a stranger, not a man, but she still couldn't feel at ease with her. As the silence stretched on she'd snuck a couple of glances at her, and to her surprise she hadn't been brimming with confidence. Given what Emily had done to Chris, especially the way she'd intimidated him, she's assumed that Emily was a self-assured, confident, and almost cocky.

But here she looked almost... vulnerable. She seemed to be struggling to find something to say, and for a second Alison felt sorry for her. A long time ago she'd actually been a skilled conversationalist, carefully navigating conversations with her father's business partners, her mother's friends who dropped around for tea and crumpets, her classmates who came over for study dates. She knew what to say and how to say it, and it was her quick thinking and clever use of words that made her who she is.

Yet now, she was silent. And Emily was to. Eventually Emily started babbling about swimming and Alison could almost see her eyes light up as she talked about her passion. She listened politely, but she found it hard to relate. Alison long ago lost all traces of passion; she had no intention of taking up any extracurricular activities, and her time spent at home was mostly used to read and ruminate. She hadn't played the piano or picked up a field hockey stick since she'd been back. Her brother had once commented that she seemed like a shell of his former self, and her mother has pursed her lips - but she hadn't come to Alison's defense.

She still isn't sure what exactly prompted her to speak. Her emotions had been going haywire, and her mind had been a mess. When Chris sat next to her she'd been so scared that she literally started trembling. Aside from her family - and now, Emily - she hasn't been that close to a man or person since the night she escaped, since she fell into the arms of a waiting police officer and was carted off in an ambulance.

There was something predatory about Chris, something that froze her in place. Emily's return has been much more welcome then her initial arrival, and when she'd confronted Chris because he was bothering Alison, her heart, which has already been beating rapidly, felt like it was on a roller coaster. And when she punched him, an Chris dropped to the ground like a felled tree, she knew something had changed. In that moment Emily was no longer a stranger. She wasn't quite Emily's friend, but he wasn't just her classmate either. She was something... different.

That still didn't explain why she had thanked her. Emily seemed as shocked as she'd had been, her eyes widening in astonishment. She'd instantly dropped her haze, astonished herself. She had held her tongue since the night she'd escaped her captor, not saying a word to the police officer who'd found her, the paramedics who'd treated her, not even greeting her parents when they'd turned up in tears a the police station an hour later. She'd stayed silent during a thousand therapy sessions, during police questioning and newspaper interviews, during her parents' please and her brothers cajoling. So what was it about Emily that made her break her vow of silence?

She'd walked away from her, ignoring her calls and searching for somewhere quiet, and was pondering that very question - why? - when Emily found her again. To her surprise she didn't resent her presence. In a way she was intruding on her solitude, but with the way Emily defended her, she felt she had every right to be there. But Alison was so shaken up by everything that had happened, she could hardly even acknowledge her presence. She had to work hard not to cry, and she had a feeling Emily thought she was upset because of her. Alison was upset with herself, for losing control and speaking again after so long, for letting her emotions get to her - and for not being able to stand up for herself. There was a time when she would have taken Chris on herself, breaking him down with her words until he wouldn't dare touch her; and now, apparently, Emily was fighting her battle for her.

Emily talked to her, comforted her, and she found herself talking back. It didn't feel natural, exactly, but it wasn't as horrible as she thought it would be. When her mother picked her up and asked her how it was, she'd responded with a smile. She didn't let it slip that she'd started speaking again, she didn't mention the boy who'd cornered her or the brown-eyed girl who saved her. Just a smile, and that was answer enough.

She pulls into the school parking lot, grabs her things, and makes her way into the building. Everything seems a little bit less forbidding than usual. The cold brick walls feel further away, no longer suffocation and smothering; the babble of noise fades into the background, familiar rather than grating. Yet aside from that, nothing much changes. She doesn't make direct eye contact with anyone, she sits by herself at lunch, and she goes about her business with her head down and mouth closed.

That is, until she has her class with _her_. She walks in, avoiding everyone's curios looks; they'd been fascinated by her before, but most of them had recognized that she was so different it was hardly worth trying to connect with her. But after seeing her at the party on Friday, it's almost like an invisible wall has been lowered - not quite removed, but the impact of it significantly lessened. One or to people even greet her, but she ducks her head and says nothing. She's not quite ready for that kind of interaction.

As soon as she sits down Toby leans over and starts talking to her.

"It was great seeing you at the part the other day." Toby gushes, and beside her Spencer nods in agreement. "I didn't expect to see you there."

Alison smiles, unsure what else she can do. Toby and Spencer seem nice enough, maybe even the kind of people she would be friends with before all of this happened, but she's a lot more reserved than she used to be. Trusting anyone is a leap of faith, and she's till teetering at the edge. Chris has proved to her that there are still people who would hurt her, reminding her that she shouldn't trust so easily - look how she ended up the last time she trusted the wrong person.

Chris is sitting a couple of rows ahead of her, as she listens to Spencer explain to her about the upcoming Charity Ball - apparently it's the Rosewood High event of the semester - she can't help but look at him. He's staring straight ahead, not talking to anyone, which is a change from his usual self - most other times she's seen him, he's been snickering with his friends about the latest funny video they found online or the mass email they got spreading rumors about the sexual orientation of the football team captain. Today, he's silent, and Alison isn't sure if that's a good thing. But she watches him a second too long, and he turns around.

She jumps and jerks her head away, focusing on Spencer, who gives her a curios look - then her eyes drift over to Chris and her look turns to one of understanding. Alison could feel Chris looking at her, and she's sure he knows she was just looking at him. She carefully avoids his gaze, listening to Spencer and Toby try to convince her to go to the Charity Ball, until the teacher comes in and starts marking the roll.

In the coming days, many people will ask her about the moment she first spoke. They'll ask _why now? _and _why here? _and _what made you finally break? _and she'll look at them with a polite smile and shake her head, as if she doesn't want to discuss it. But the truth is, she's not quite sure of the answers.

When the teacher calls her name, she raises her hand in response, just like every day. A few people glance up at her - she's still the new girl, still the odd one out, still a source of much confusion and the subject of many rumors - and then look down again, uninterested. Once, Alison had loved being the limelight; she'd wanted to be the favorite child, the star student, the girl teachers called on and old ladies smiled at. Now the only time people stare at her is when they're looking at her pityingly, asking her questions she can't answer, and waiting for words she won't say.

Something shoots through her. In a blink she remembers speaking to Emily, how it wasn't as terrifying as she'd thought it would be. She'd regretted it, but now... maybe it wasn't such a bad thing. All of the therapists she'd been to had said that she should starts speaking when she felt ready, that it should be her decision. She'd always been someone who loved being in control, who made her own decisions and stuck by them. After her ordeal, when all control had been taken from her, she'd been working at slowly regaining it - and maybe this is just another step in that process. Maybe she's ready.

She takes a deep breath, keeps her gaze locked on the front chalkboard, and says, "Present."

The response is instant and intense. All eyes in the classroom lock onto her, and people start muttering. Before the noise dies down Alison twists in her seat, meets Emily's eyes, and smiles. She doesn't smile back, and she thinks for a moment she's made a horrible mistake. She turns back to the front, waiting for the murmurs to stop and her classmates to turn their attention elsewhere. She can sense the way they're looking at her, even though she avoids making eye contact. They're surprised, but it's mixed in with the usual pity. Maybe this was a bad idea.

Behind her she hears someone - Hanna, she thinks her name is - whisper, "Do you know her?"

She's talking to Emily, she knows, and she waits for her to explain that they hung out at the party, that she's spoken to her before, that she went up against Chris for her. But Emily doesn't say anything. She doesn't even say 'No, but I'd like to get to know her' or 'Maybe' or 'Sort of'. She says nothing, and in the silence Alison feels her heart sink. She's the first person she's spoken to in two years, and yet... they're not friends. They're hardly even acquaintances. Maybe she shouldn't have talked to her, or spoken just now.

She flicks through her textbook, fighting the urge to run. The walls are starting to feel suffocating again, and her heart is pulsating rapidly. Her palms start to feel sweaty and she bites her lip, knowing what this is leading up to. She can't have a panic attack, not here, not now. She hasn't had one in a month, and she'd thought that if she could make it through her first week of school without one she'd be in the clear. Apparently she's been wrong about a lot of things lately.

As an announcement crackled over the PA system Spencer leans over and mutter, "Alison, are you okay?"

'Yeah," she replies without thinking, and she feels blood rush to her cheeks. This was meant to make her feel in control, but it seems that now her spell of silence is over she's back to blurting things out.

The announcement ends, and Emily rises from her seat and hurries out of the room. Alison watches her go, wondering if maybe she was wrong about her too.


	7. Chapter 7

For a long, long moment, all Emily can do is stare. She hasn't seen her cousin in over a year, and she's not sure how to react to the sight of him now. He looks different to the way she remembered him, but at first she can't figure out how. The longer she stares, the more differences come to light. He's lost weight, and it doesn't suit him; it makes him look smaller, more fragile. He's wearing a hoodie, and it hangs loosely around him. His hair is longer. He half-rises from his chair, his eyes flicking over her face as if he's searching for something.

Before either of them can speak, there's a movement in the corner of the room. Emily turns, and only now notices the figure sitting there.

"Emily," her uncle says, getting to his feet and walking over. "You have to stay with us for a few weeks while your mother visits your dad in Texas. Maybe you should greet your cousin right about now."

"He's not my cousin," Emily mumbles, looking at the ground. "Not anymore."

"Emily."

The warning tone in his voice makes Emily look up. She meets her uncle's eyes, and suddenly it's last May, and she's at the pool alone, her uncle bursting through the door filled with rage an venom in his words. Emily blinks hard and reluctantly, she turns to her cousin again.

"Hi Nate." The name feels like tar in her mouth. "How are you?"

His mouth twitches, and his expression shifts into something that's a cross between a smile and a grimace. "Hi Emily," he says softly. "I'm... better."

"Well." The principal claps his hands, looking from one family member to another. "It's great to have you back, Nate. I trust that Emily will do all she can to help you settle in."

Although it's the last thing Emily wants to do, she takes note of the stern look in her uncle gives her. She lowers her head in acknowledgment, not trusting herself to speak.

"Excellent," the principal says, either unaware or tactfully ignoring the tension between the family members. "So Nate will start back here tomorrow, and Emily will help him reacquaint himself with the school. We have a counselor, Ms. King, who will be happy to meet with Nate as often as he need."

"That won't be necessary," Mr. Smith/Emily's uncle says stiffly. "Nate will still be continuing his treatment at Radley, as per his doctor's orders."

"Of course." The principal ignores the thinly veiled insult to the school, focusing his attention on a stack of papers in front of him. He pulls few out and pushed them across the desk. "There are just a couple more forms for you to give to Nate's parents to fill out, and then, if they have any thing you want to talk about -"

"Actually." Mr. Smith looks at Emily and Nate and then takes a step toward the desk. "There is one more thing I'd like to talk about."

The principal spreads his hands wide, indicating for her to go on.

Mr. Smith turns to them again. "You two go and wait in the hall. I'll be out in a minute."

Nate stands up at once, wrapping his arms around himself and slipping out the door. Emily follows a moment later. She feels blindsided by this, and is frustrated with her mother for making her stay with this monster. She'd always known Nate would come back someday, but after all that happened she'd assumed that her mother would at least give her a warning of it. There's a lot of bad blood between them, and Emily would have liked to have time to prepare herself for this moment.

When she reaches the hall, Nate is drinking from the water fountain. He looks up a she approaches, wiping his mouth with the back of his sleeve. He looks smaller that he used to be, more frail - but she knows better.

"Emily -" she starts.

"I don't want to hear it. Whatever you're going to say, whatever excuse or lie you've come up with, just - don't. Okay?"

Nate surveys her thoughtfully, and Emily feels her skin prickle. A memory of the last time she saw him creeps up in her mind, but she pushes it away before it gets too far. Yet she can still hear the echoes of the sirens, feel the sting of her uncles words, taste the bitterness of salt as she tries to hold back tears.

"Just as guarded always." Nate comments, still trying to get her to meet his eyes. His hand flutters out a if he wants her to touch it, but he thinks better of it. A beat passes, and then his hand falls back to his side.

Emily releases a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. She hasn't had any physical contact with Nate since a week before he left, and she still winces at the memory. She glances down at the hall, takes a tentative step closer to her cousin, and says quietly, "Nate, why are you back?"

"What do you mean?" His voice is pleasant enough, but he narrows his eyes slightly. "I was released from Radley because I got better, Emily."

"What does that even mean?" Emily fold her arms, torn between wanting to know more about her cousin's unexpected return and wanting to get as far away from him as possible. "When you say that you're 'better'-"

"It means," Nate interrupts calmly. "that I've come to recognize that my actions last year were the result of an unstable mind and unhealthy coping mechanisms. I've learned ways to balance my mood and express my feelings, and ongoing treatment will ensure that we avoid of the events that brought me to Radley last May."

He says it like a monotone, like he's reciting it from memory. As he speaks he picks at a loose thread in his jacket, his eyes drifting around the room.

"Where'd you pick that up?" Emily asks. "A brochure? Self-help book? A bottle of Vitamin Water?"

"My last therapist, actually. But why does that matter?"

Emily leans against the wall, watching her cousin cautiously. Some part of her wants to believe that he's genuine, that his time away has done him good and he's ready to reintegrate into the family and into society, but optimism has never been her style. "Nate, after you left.. it was horrible. Do you get that? It was hell?"

With a teasing smile he asks, "Why, because you missed me so much?"

She pushes herself off the wall, sudden anger surging through her. After everything that had happened, he had the nerve to stand here and tease her like this? Nobody else would have the guts to do that, and while many people admire Nate's apparent bravery, Emily just finds it insufferable. "No," she says, struggling to keep her voice steady. "It wasn't because I missed you. It was because you left one hell off a mess behind. Do you know how hard it was to go back to school after you went away? Everybody knew - or at least thought they knew - what happened. Everyone thought I lied about what you did they thought I was the one hitting on my cousin and threating or manipulating you into a relationship. Nobody would believe me how do you think I felt? Do you know what people called me? Do you have any idea how hard it's been for me while you've been off learning how not to be a monster?"

Nate's smile had been slowly fading, and by the time Emily finishes her rant his eyes are filled with anger. Nate slaps himself and leaves a big red mark on his face, but before Emily can say anything the door to the office opens and Emily's uncle strides out. His mouth is open and he's about to say something, but he stops short at the sight of Nate. Her uncle turns to Emily then to Nate. "What have you done?" he growls.

Emily pales. There aren't many people that can scare her, but her uncle falls into that category, and ever veiled insult, every disappointed look, makes her feel even smaller. "I didn't -" she stammers, but her uncle doesn't give her time to explain.

Mr. Smith takes Nate by his arm, shaking his head sadly at Emily. "I expected better of you, Emily. Your cousin has been back less than a day and you're already back to your old tricks."

"But -"

"I don't want to hear it," he says wearily. "I'm going to take Nate home now, and I expect you to go pick up clothes from your house then come straight to our house. And by the time you get there, you should have a better attitude and be ready to give your cousin the welcome she deserves. Am I clear?"

Although Emily's heart hurts at the injustice of these words, she knows there's no sense in arguing. She's never been able to win an argument against her uncle. "Yes," she says meekly, and her uncle gives her a brief nod before turning and leading Nate down the hall.

As Emily watches her uncle and cousin walks away the bell rings, releasing a flood of student. But even through the crowd she can see Nate turn around, meet her eyes, and give her an amused smile. It doesn't surprise her that he can muster up a plan so easily to manipulate her uncle so perfectly. It's what he's always done, and apparently his time at Radley hasn't changed that.

Emily moves to the side of the hall, trying to stay out of everyone's way, and attempts to collect her thoughts. She's more shaken up than she cares to admit, and she considers going to find Spencer. But they've never had a touchy-feely relationship, and although he knows Spencer would listen and do her best to be sympathetic, she'd be way out of her depth. It's better if Emily jut deals with it herself.

She takes a few deep breaths and is about to start walking when somebody - one of the football team, she thinks - waves to her as she walks past. The guy turns so that she's walking backwards, still watching Emily. Then he grins and asks, "What's up, Lady Killer?

His friends snigger and shoot a few looks Emily's way, and Emily waits until they've gone around the corner before she allows the comments to sink in. Her peers have no forgotten the events of last year, have no forgiven her for her perceived sins, and have not move on or matured. She was foolish to think things would get better.

Lady Killer. The name makes her feel sick. She is still being punished for crimes she never committed, and nobody will let her forget it. Her feet are moving before she's aware of it, and she hurries down the hall, searching for an escape. There's a crowd around the front door, and it's too far away. She needs somewhere quite, and she needs it now.

Her eyes scan the corridor, coming to a rest on the nearest door. It's unlocked and slightly ajar, and that's all the encouragement she needs. She cuts across a couple of sophomore boys trading baseball cars and ducks into the room, her heart uncomfortably heavy in her chest. She'd thought she was over it, that she didn't care what her classmates thought or said. So why is she letting it get to her like this?

She reaches the far wall and rests her palms against it, closing her eyes willing the world to disappear. If only she could be at the pool, the one place she's in control. The nickname bounces around in her skull, deafening her. She turns around and slides down the wall, still trembling with frustration - and she realizes now, with sadness. Outside the door, the world continues. Students walk past, gossiping about teachers and each other and anything else they can think of. Teachers rush to their cars, eager to escape the throng and return to their homes, where their partners and pets and other lives are waiting.

And Emily keeps sitting, until the noise has died away and the last students have fled. She knows she will have to get up soon, go "home" and deal with her uncle and Nate and her on other life, but she can't bring herself to move.

After a while she hears a voice call out, some generic farewell; and then she hears footsteps. They speed up, coming closer, and even though she doesn't open her eyes she can tell the person is going to pass right by. The door is still slightly open, and whoever it is will probably see her. Maybe they'll laugh at her, Emily the freak having a meltdown, and run off to tell all their friends. Maybe they'll insult her, or, even worse, offer her insincere kindness.

The footsteps become slower, more hesitant, and then they stop. She can hear soft breathing; the person is still there, probably gawking at him, trying to stifle their laughter. Finally she looks up, and is startled when she meets sympathetic blue eyes. Of all the people who could of come across her at this low point, of course it had to be _her._


	8. Chapter 8

In the silence that follows, Emily is reminded of a time last summer when she went hiking by herself - anything to get out of the house. She headed up into the woods, not even bothering to leave a note behind; when her mother got home from work, she probably wouldn't even notice that the house was empty. After a while the trees gave way to scrub, and eventually to rocks. Huge rocks formations loomed in front of her, seemingly insurmountable, but something in her - weather it was recklessness or a sense of adventure, she was never quite sure - what prompted her to climb the tallest on. Her hands were scraped and bleeding by the time she got to the top, but the view was worth it. She could see all of Rosewood, all the fancy houses and antlike people spread out before her, so small she could almost believe she could squash them beneath her foot - and, although she wouldn't admit it, part of her wanted to.

She stayed up there for an hour, not speaking, not moving, undisturbed and feeling something akin to peace. It wasn't the fierce kind of happiness brought about by the passion she put into swimming; this was something quieter, something new and more gentle. When she'd finally moved, the peace didn't disappear like she'd expected it to; instead it seemed to cling to her, following her as she started climbing down the rock. It lasted exactly a second before her foot slipped.

There was a horrible moment, one that seemed to drag on forever, in which she knew she was going to fall. And, as sure as that, she knew there was nothing she could do to stop it. Her heart had thudded to a stop, all thoughts had fled her mind, and she'd squeezed her eyes shut, not wanting to know what happened next.

She feels a little like that now. Stuck in that moment just before you fall, when you know things are about to go horribly wrong and feel helpless to stop them. She scrambles to her feet, watching Alison's eyes widen in surprise at the sudden movement.

"S-sorry," she stammers. "Did you need the room for something?"

She shakes her head, looks down the hall, even takes a step away from the door. Then her eyes dart back to Emily's, she clutches the pile of books she's carrying tighter to her chest, and her mouth tilts downwards slightly. Emily thinks it's a sign of disdain or disappointment - the Lady Killer is making a mess of things again. But Alison's eyes are gently, albeit wary, and she remembers that she doesn't know anything about her past. Alison doesn't know about Nate, about when he went away and what people said after he left, and she probably doesn't know anything about - well, everything else. The way she's looking at Emily now isn't quite pity. either. If anything, it's concern.

"Are..." She trails off, clears her throat, tries again. "Are you okay?"

The question itself isn't unusual, but the way she asks it is. The last time someone had asked Emily that question, it had been with the very clear implication that there was only one correct answer. But Alison looks serious, like she really want to know, and a little surprised, as if she's not sure why she cares.

"I'm fine," she mumbles, not even letting herself consider telling her the truth. She doesn't seem to move at the answer, but something in Alison's expression changed. Something subtle yet noticeable, and Emily feels something in herself change too. "It's just... family stuff, you know?"

As soon as the words fall from her mouth she wants to snatch them back up again. Her 'family stuff' probably seems incredibly petty to someone like Alison, someone who has been through some kind of unimaginable hell. She must have looked embarrassed, because Alison's expression shifts to one of amusement and she takes a couple steps inside the door. Emily watches quietly as she sets her book down on a desk, considers her, then hoists herself up onto the next desk, crossing one leg over the other and looking at her expectantly.

Emily notices that she is between her and the door, and she wonders if this is automatic or deliberate. If what she's heard is true, if Alison really was kidnapped, it makes sense that she would try to avoid feeling trapped, and Emily still does her best to make her feel safe. Emily leans against the desk nearest to her, so there's still almost half a classroom in between them.

A hundred different things run through Emily's mind, and she starts to pick through them, to work out what to keep to herself and what to reveal. Finally she says, "You shouldn't be here."

She has intended it as a warning, but it almost sounds like a threat. Alison seems to take it as such; she stiffens, becoming guarded again, and Emily realizes how harsh her words had sounded.

"No," she says quickly," I didn't mean it like that. I just mean... well, people talk."

Alison doesn't respond, but she makes no move to leave. Instead she just its there, patiently waiting for Emily to go on. She had a therapist once, just after Nate had been sent away, who had adopted the similar approach. He would sit in the chair, occasionally tapping his pen against his notebook or rearranging highlighters on his desk, and just waiting for Emily to speak. She never did, and a few times she just got up and walked out on him. But this is different, and although she doesn't quite want to open up, she doesn't want to leave either.

"You must have heard what people have been saying." Emily runs a finger along a crease of her jeans, weighing each word before she says it. "Doesn't it.. I mean, aren't you..."

"Scared?" Alison finishes softly.

Emily glances up. She seems small, vulnerable, and she's still not quite meeting her yes. Alison tucks some hair behind her ear, retreating back into herself while she waits for her reply. "Well yeah," Emily says. Words are failing her, but she keeps trying. "Some people think I tried to -"

"I know." Alison interrupts, and then ducks her head, like she's not sure if she should have spoken.

"So you've heard." She's trying to stop herself from being to cynical, from jumping to conclusions, but it's hard to trust that anyone could be genuine. It's so much easier to shut people out, to let them assume what they like to call her whatever names they want, than it is to convince them of the truth.

"I heard," she says slowly. "But that's not what's bothering you, is it?"

Emily looks up, startled by this astute observation. Hearing that nickname had been what had tipped her off edge, but it's not what's getting to her. "No," she admits quietly. "It's not what they call me, or what they think I did."

"So what is it?"

She lets her hand trail along a line of graffiti carved into the desk, over unfamiliar names and all-too familiar insults: jerk, loser, weirdo. "I have a cousin," she says, her hands pausing over the word 'freak'. "He's been away for a long time, and she just came back today."

"You and your cousin don't get along well?" Alison surmises.

Emily lets out a snort at the understatement. "You could say that."

"I have a brother," Alison says after a while, fiddling with the plain silver bracelet around her wrist. "We never really got along either."

And just like that, they have sorta something in common. It doesn't tie them together, but it makes the distance between them seem less. Alison even leans forward a little, like she actually wants to talk.

"Did your family member ever call the cops on you?" Emily asks, more as a joke than a challenge, thinking back to the worst fight her and Nate had ever had.

"Actually, yes," Alison giggles at her shock, and Emily can't help but found the sound mesmerizing; when she'd first seen her she couldn't imagine Alison would ever smile, and now she's laughing. "He was only ten at the time. I'd stolen his Gameboy and my parents weren't taking sides, so he decided it was a jail-worthy offence."

Emily can't help but laugh, and Alison joins in. As she laughs her face changes, becoming more open, and for the first time Emily can remember the hurt seems to vanish from her eyes - not entirely, but still significantly.

"What happened?" Emily asks once she stops laughing.

"They told him they'd look into it," Alison says, still chuckling. "Then my parents took the phone away from him and told him to never do that again."

"God," Emily says, laughing again. This shared moment with Alison, bonding over the misery that is having family, is something she hadn't been expecting, but maybe it was something she'd needed. Something they'd both needed.

The laughter dies away, but the silence is more comfortable than before. Emily had come into this room because she was a wreck, and then in the ten minutes she's been talking to Alison her mood has lifted more than she thought possible.

"Emily," Alison says hesitantly, which makes Emily's heart skip a beat. "Can I ask -"

Her phone then goes off interrupting her mid-sentence. She pulls it out, looking embarrassed, and then groans as she reads the message.

"That's my mom," she explains with a grimace, sliding to the ground and picking up her books, "I have to go now."

She's halfway out the door before Emily finds her voice again. "Alison," she calls softly, and she turns around. "Thank you."

There's no need to say anything else. Alison dips her head, turning again for the door, and Emily is struck by how much of a role reversal this is; she'd protected Alison from Chris, and now, in her own way, she's helping her.

"You never asked me," she says, and Alison stops but doesn't turn back. "Whether I did it or not." she clarifies.

Alison turns around slowly, so that she's looking at Emily over her shoulder. "I never had to."

Then she smiles, the kind smile that would make Emily weak at the knees if she wasn't already leaning against the desk. Without thinking about it she smiles back, and Alison's eyes brighten, as if she wasn't sure if she'd return the gesture. Then without another word she's gone, but somehow Emily feels a little less alone.


	9. Chapter 9

When Emily gets home from school, her spirits are slightly elevated due to her conversation with Alison, her uncle sitting in the living room. Emily takes one look at Nate, sitting beside Mr. Smith like this is a perfectly normal thing to do, and she flees to her temporary room. She's barely there five minutes before her uncle knocks and walks in. He instructs her to come into the living room for a family game of monopoly. Her uncle and aunt do their best to make it a cheerful event, trying to engage the children in conversation and convince them that the game is fun, but they all know that theirs is a broken family. And they all know better than to mention it.

Dinner at the Smith household is an uncomfortable affair that night. Their game of monopoly had ended when Mr. Smith went bankrupt and Nate bought a hotel, forcing Mrs. Smith to sell off all her properties and Emily to storm off in disgust. Now she's sitting across from her uncle, his head down and his mouth closed. She's calculating how long she's expected to sit here before she can reasonably retire to her room for the night. Nate is beside her, picking at his salad and making polite small talk with his mother.

"So, Emily." Mr. Smith says when there's a break in the conversation, "the Rosewood Charity Ball is coming up. Are you going to be taking anyone to it?"

"No, I-" Emily starts, intending on saying that she isn't planning on going at all. But her uncle, as usual, hears only what he wants to hear.

"Great. I was thinking it would be nice if you and Nate went together," Mr. Smith goes on, not noticing Emily's hand clenching around her fork. "He's still trying to readjust, and you know how cruel kids can be. It would be good for you to keep a eye on him.

Before Emily can protest, Nate speaks. "I appreciate that, but I'm not a child. I can take care of myself."

"I know you've made progress in Radley, but-"

"Not just progress. Recovery." Nate interrupts, giving his father a almost sincere look. "I'm better now, and I need to start being independent again."

"I understand that." Emily's uncle keeps his voice level, but her family can read between the lines. He's trying to stay in control, to not let his volatile temper get the best of him. "I'm not suggesting you're weak or that you need protection. I'm just saying that you and Emily should make an effort to get to know each other again, and going to events like this might be a good way to do so."

Or a _good way to make the family implode entirely._ Emily bites back her response. Silence is often the best defense; if she doesn't say anything, her words can't be used against her. It's easier to hate someone for what they said than for what they did.

She waits a few minutes, until it seems everyone has almost finished eating, and then she excuses herself and disappears to her room. Her family is complicated at the best of times, and adding Nate to he mix was bound to stir some things up - things she would rather not deal with right now. She lies on her guest bed, listening to music until she falls asleep.

When she wakes up, she knows better than to assume that the new day will bring any new hope, any easing of the tension in the family. She pads downstairs, and to her relief the kitchen is empty. Although she's there less than ten minutes - just long enough for coffee and a bowl of cereal - it's enough to ruin her morning. Nate appears in the doorway, his hair messy and his eyes brighter than they had been yesterday.

"Is there any left?" he asks, gesturing to the almost empty coffee cup by Emily's elbow.

She shrugs, scooping the last spoonful of cereal into her mouth, and hopes that Nate has enough sense to leave her alone.

He doesn't.

"Today's my real first day back at school," he says, pouring himself a glass of juice and sitting down across from her. "I was thinking it'd be good for me to get there early, just so I can see what's changed and get used to the place again."

Emily's eyes him over the rim of the coffee cup, and then she lowers it to the table, still watching him. "Why are you telling me that? You're not suggesting -"

"That you drive your cousin to school?" Mr. Smith finished breezily, striding into the room. "No, nobody's suggesting that you do that."

Emily's muscles relax - she hadn't had realized how tense she was - but she quickly freezes up again at her uncle's next words.

"I'm telling you to do it. So get your stuff and get going, otherwise you'll be late."

In any other household, being told to drive a family member to school is a nonissue. It's commonplace, everyday. In the Smith household, however, it's enough to cause a tense silence to fall across the room like a smothering blanket. Emily carries her cup and bowl over to the sink, her knuckles white from gripping them so tightly, and tries to think of a way to get out of this.

"Uncle Smith -" she begins.

"Don't try to argue." Her uncle finished slicing a banana and scatters the pieces on top of his bowl of muesli, giving Emily a look that clearly says this topic isn't up for discussion. "Take your cousin to school, and we can talk about everything else later."

He heads for the door, but stops and turns around before he leaves the room.

"Nate, if there's any problems, call me," he says, with a pointed look at Emily. "And Emily, if I hear one bad word about your behavior, you won't be allowed to swim for a week."

Emily stands in shocked silence as her uncle leaves. The silence continues until long after he's gone. Finally she turns to Nate, trying to keep her indignation in check. "I'm leaving in five minutes," she says shortly, and then walks out without waiting for a response.

Ten minutes later they're driving past the church on the corner. Neither of them have said word to each other, and Emily's doing everything she can to keep it that way. She keeps her eyes straight forward, turns the radio up, and leans her body away from Nate to make it clear she doesn't want to talk.

"I'm sorry he's -" Nate starts as they turn into the school's street.

"Don't apologize for him," Emily interrupts, pulling up outside the school and indicating that Nate get out. He does, after only a slight hesitation, and as she drives around to park behind the school with all the other students, she thinks about what she should have said.

Nate doesn't need to apologize on behalf of her uncle. He should apologize for himself, for what he put her through. But he's stubborn, and Emily knows not to hold her breath while she waits for an apology that will never come.

By the time Emily is sliding into her seat at lunch, her mood has improved a little. Her first few classes had been relatively easy; she and Hanna had talked the entire way through History, earning them a couple of glares from the teacher, but that didn't bother her. She'd gotten back the test she did last week, and she'd not only passed but actually done better than most of the class. And, best of all, she hasn't seen Nate since she dropped him off this morning.

The rumors haven't been as bad as she expected. When Nate had left it seemed like everyone had their own version of events - none of which were true - but now that he's back, not many people have much to say on the matter. Emily's stunt at the party on Friday seems to have given her a popularity boost, and although a few people are still gossiping about what happened last year, most don't seem to care, or at least too polite to talk about it in front of her.

"Hey." Hanna nudges her, eyes locked on a spot in the cafeteria.

Emily follows her gaze, expecting to see Chris or Nate, but it's someone a lot more welcome. As she looks at Alison, who's balancing her lunch try on one hand and fixing her hair with the other, she wonders why she always seems to take her by surprise.

"You know her, don't you?" Caleb asks from beside Hanna. "Why don't you go invite her to sit with us? She looks a little lost."

Emily turns her gaze to him, surprised. Caleb isn't particularly welcoming to newcomers - it had taken him a while to warm up to her. She considers asking if he's sure, if he'd be okay with that, but then she decides not to push her luck. She quickly gets to her feet and wends her way across the cafeteria toward her.

For the first time, when Alison sees her she doesn't looked shocked or concerned. She looks like she's actually glad to see her, and the expression - one of relief, of delighted surprise - is so foreign to Emily it takes her a moment to figure put what it is.

"Would you..." Emily suddenly feels absurd, like she's about to ask her to prom or something, and she feels her cheeks redden. "Would you like to come sit with us?"

Alison doesn't answer right away, and Emily finds herself imagining all sorts of horrible ways in which she might react. Alison could flat-out tell her no. She could laugh at her, or start crying, or walk off without saying anything.

"Sure," Alison says at last, gesturing for her to lead the way.

Emily's not sure why, but she finds herself automatically reaching for her tray, silently offering to carry it. Alison gives her a curious look, surprise mingled with disbelief, and pulls the tray closer to herself. "I can manage," she says somewhat stiffly, but her tone softens as she notices Emily's embarrassment. "But thanks."

Emily leads her down to their table, puzzling out what just happened. She had offended her somehow? Did she think her offer to carry her tray implied that Emily thought she was weak or in need of protection? Was she trying to prove that she was capable, that she didn't need anyone? Or was she simply caught of guard?

Hanna gives Alison a cursory nod as she sits down next to Emily, and then she continues her conversation with Caleb. Alison begins picking the blueberries off of her muffin and lining them up along the side of her plate. Aria raises an eyebrow at Emily, silently asking, _Is she for real?_

Emily shrugs, and Alison glances up, noticing Aria looking at her. "They were out of raspberry." Alison mumbles.

"Here" Aria promptly hands over her own raspberry muffin, causing Alison's mouth to fall open in surprise. "What?" Aria looks from Alison to Emily and back again. "It's just a muffin."

Alison accepts it graciously, thanking her and offering her own muffin in return. The whole exchange has taken less than a minute, and to the casual observer it would appear relatively insignificant. But Emily knows how important this has been. To her it feels like this is the first time Alison has made an effort to connect, taken a step outside her shell - and Emily's going to do her best to keep her out of it.

"So have you guys started the English assignment?" she asks, trying to get a group conversation going before Alison starts thinking she made a mistake.

"The one on _To Kill A Mockingbird? _Caleb frowns, like remembering the title should be enough to get him a passing grade. "It's not due until next week, right?"

"Next Friday," Aria confirms, taking a bite of her blueberry muffin an chewing it thoughtfully. "I think I'm going to do my character study on Boo Radley. He's an underrated character, and I want to explore -"

"Yeah, yeah," Hanna interrupts, waving her hand around airily as if to brush away Aria's words. "Spare us your technical mumbo jumbo."

Aria is so used to this she isn't even offended. She just playfully rolls her eyes and asks, "Have you chosen your character then?"

Hanna nods, swallowing a mouthful of pasta. "I figured I'd just do that lawyer guy. Abacus Finch or whatever his name is.

Emily turns to Alison in alarm as she lets out a noise halfway between a snort and a cough. She hastily tries to cover it up, but by now the entire group is looking at her in mild concern and confusion.

"Are you okay?" Emily asks gently.

She nods, wiping a couple of muffin crumps off her sleeve and trying to be nonchalant. When she notices that everyone is still staring at her, she ducks her head and mumbles something.

"Sorry?" Aria raises an eyebrow, and Emily wonders if she's thinking they made a mistake of letting Alison sit with them.

Alison looks up at Aria, and then turns her gaze onto Hanna. "It's Atticus," she corrects her softly. Her voice hesitant, like she's expecting to be reprimanded. "His name is Atticus Finch."

Emily waits for Hanna's reaction. The blonde girl doesn't tend to take kindly to being corrected - even though she often needs it - and even Aria, who's top of just about every class, doesn't bother most times.

Before Hanna can speak, though, Aria bursts out laughing. "I like you, Alison," she announces. "Maybe you can help me teach Hanna the difference between adjectives and adverbs."

Although Alison tries not to show it, when Emily sneaks a sideways look at her she sees that Alison's pleased with the apparent approval. Alison gives Hanna an apologetic look, and the other girl seems disgruntled until Caleb leans over to give her a placatory kiss. Afterwards Aria and Hanna start discussing the latest sale down at the mall, and Caleb taps away at his phone. By the speed at which Caleb's finger are flying over the keys Emily assumes he's doing something a little less than legal, but she doesn't bother to ask about it.

Instead she turns her attention to Alison. She's dragging the tip of her fork through a mountain of peas, then organizing them into symmetrical rows, her face a picture of concentration and her eyes fixed on her plate.

"You okay?" Emily asks, causing her to start, dropping the fork and disrupting her latest row. Apparently she'd forgotten she was part of a group now.

Alison doesn't speak until she's retrieved the fork from behind the plate and fixed the row back up. Then she used the fork to destroy all the rows, watching the peas roll all over the place, as chaotic as they had been neat a moment ago. "I'm fine, " she replies, but her tone shows the uneasiness her words are trying to disguise.

"You don't have to stay here," Emily says. As much as she wants Alison to stay, she knows what it's like to be stuck somewhere you don't want to be, how that trapped feeling can cause you to lash out - or, more likely her case, retreat far into yourself that you can be more alone surrounded by people than if you were actually by yourself.

"It's okay." Alison gives up on her food, resting the fork neatly on the table and looking around the cafeteria.

"So Alison," Aria says, turning away from Hanna facing the blonde, who gets the look of a deer caught in headlights. "Are you going to join any clubs or societies? I'm head of the debate team, so if you were interested in that -"

Although Emily knows Aria is only trying to be nice, reaching out and trying to get to know the new girl, the effect Alison has is worrying. She starts chewing on her bottom lip, her gaze dropping to the table. The reaction would be more appropriate if someone had just asked her about a deceased family pet or failed class.

Aria picks up on this, and backs away at once. "I'm sorry," she says, confused and trying to be understanding, which is hard giving that nobody really knows Alison's story. "I didn't mean too.."

She trails off, not sure how to continue. Caleb's stopped typing, but he's still scrolling through his phone. Hanna is touching up her makeup, but she pauses to look at Alison, concern and confusion mingling in her expression.

Emily tries to come up with something to say, some way to deflect attention away from Alison, but social situations have never been in her comfort zone. Before she can say anything, Alison takes a deep breath, squares her shoulders, and forces herself to look at Aria. "It's nothing," she says with confidence only slightly diminished by the trembling in her voice. "I'm fine. I'll think about joining debate. Thanks for the offer."

At the end of her little speech her gaze drifts away again, focusing on a point way across the cafeteria; her way of removing herself from the situation with out actually leaving. Aria takes the hint. "Great," she says, grinning widely. "So Hanna, are we still on for this afternoon?"

The mood is significantly lighter, conversation continues. Mona and Hanna talk about clothes, television, boys, and other typical teenage-girl topics that Emily is uninterested in. Emily and Caleb strike up a conversation about a new movie coming out that month, but as she's talking Emily is also listening, discreetly trying to make sure Alison's okay.

After a while the two conversations merge, and they begin planning a trip to the movies in the next couple of weeks. They float onto other topics, like gossiping about teachers and complaining about Rosewood. The rest of lunch passes quickly, although Alison doesn't speak again, she does connect. She smiles, laughs, even makes eye contact a couple of times. But there are also periods where she goes into her own world, and even when the others speak directly to her it takes a while for her to come back.

As the bell rings Aria and Hanna gather their things, wave goodbye walk off still chattering about the new hot assistant librarian. Caleb stares at Hanna's retreating figure with a mixture of adoration and frustration, shakes his head, gives Emily an all knowing smile, and walks away.

Alison is already reaching for her bag, but stops when Emily speaks.

"Thanks," she says hesitantly. "For sitting with us. I know you probably didn't want to, but... I'm glad you did. And I hope it wasn't too horrible."

Alison gives her a half-hearted smile, and although Emily wonders if it's overstepping her bounds, she can't stop herself from asking, "You did think it was horrible didn't you?

"No," she says a little too quickly. She picks up her bag and goes to stand up, but when she sees Emily's still watching her she leans back in her chair, tugging at her sleeve and looking vaguely uncomfortable."It's not that. It's just... I don't think your friends like me very much."

"What?" Emily looks toward the building, where said friends have just disappeared. "No, they liked you," she assures her. "Hanna just takes a while to warm up to people, but she'll get there. Aria could be a little ... intense, but she means well, and I think you impressed her. And Caleb can be standoffish, but he's a good guy. I'm sure they thought you were lovely, and once they get to know you, you'll feel right at home."

As soon as Emily said that she realizes she shouldn't have. She's just implied that Alison should be a part of their group, and what if she thinks that's rude? They part ways at the door, and, still without saying anything, they both pause. Alison lets out a nervous giggle, and Emily smiles in response. Then, a feeling daring, Emily asks, "Would you like to sit with us again tomorrow?"

Alison twirls a strand of hair around her finger, thoughtfully. She takes such a long time to reply that Emily thinks she's said or done something wrong, and she's even about to apologize and move away, but then Alison smiles and says, "Sure."

The second bell goes and Alison murmurs a goodbye before quickly slipping into the crowd and disappearing down the hall. Emily stands there for a moment more, and then she smiles and it hits her.

That time, Alison was being _coy_.


	10. Chapter 10

For the next three weeks, the group - including it's newest member - fall into a routine. Alison continues to sit with them, and after the first few days Emily stops asking her; she just silently joins them, they greet her, and they return to whatever conversation they were having, usually Hanna and Aria talk about clothes or makeup. Gradually Alison begins to talk more, first offering brief opinions about a shirt or a homework assignment or a song, and eventually working up to dropping small pieces of information about herself: her birthday is in April, she dislikes artificial orange flavoring, and she was born in Georgia but grew up in Philadelphia.

Emily finds herself stockpiling these little snippets, as if knowing such trivial details will somehow bring her one step closer to a girl who always seems to be half a world away. Even when Alison's talking, laughing along with the other girls, Emily feels like she's not really there. And then there are Alison's bad days, when she hardly says a word and the look on her face makes it clear that she doesn't want to be disturbed. But even on those days Alison still sits with them, and Emily thinks that's a good sign - although she's still hard to read, and Emily's in equal parts frustrated and fascinated.

The rest of the group accepts her, but they seem to feel the same way. They're never sure what's going to upset her and what's okay to talk about; sometimes she'll have strange reactions to seemingly innocuous things, like a high-pitched ringtone going off in class or when George, the British exchange student asks a question in class about American politics. Alison will freeze up, sometimes shooting a panicked look at one of her friends - Emily feels like she knows her well enough to consider her a friend - and other times refusing to look at or acknowledge anyone.

One time, a few days after Alison started sitting with then, she had mentioned in passing how she had missed an entire year of school, and most of the group had assumed that was because whatever traumatic event happened to her. Hanna, however, had directly asked her why she'd missed school, and when Alison didn't reply she'd even used the word 'kidnapped' in her next question. Caleb, mortified, had apologized on behalf of his girlfriend and ushered her off to the other side of the cafeteria, where he gave her a lesson in tact and etiquette, and explained why it's never okay to ask someone if they were kidnapped.

But the damage was done. Tears had filled Alison's eyes, and she hadn't talked for a full two days. Emily was just beginning to think she regressed, and felt a surge of anger toward Hanna for making Alison feel so cornered, but then the next day Alison turned up to school, greeted Emily by name, and acted like nothing was wrong. The rest of the group followed Alison's lead, but they were still tentative when they talked to her, not wanting to set her off again. Hanna got into the habit of waiting ten seconds before saying anything, so that she cold filter her words; a few times Emily watched her quietly counting under her breath, and once she even mentioned to Hanna that she appreciated the effort.

Aria is the first off the group, aside from Emily, to take a shine to Alison. Emily can see that she begins to realize Alison is her intellectual equal, and she sees a lot of herself in the older girl. The first time Alison beats her in a test, Aria is surprised; the second time, she's upset with herself; and the third time she takes it as a challenge. Emily is worried at first that Alison might feel that Aria is attacking her, because Aria doubles her study efforts and makes a point of saying that she's going to do better next time. But Alison rises to the challenge, throwing herself into her studies with fervor that nobody knew she possessed. She takes to studying like Emily took to swimming or Toby to carpentry. Aria and Alison develop a healthy rivalry, and from that blossoms something close to friendship.

Caleb is the next to really accept her. Emily isn't sure why, but Caleb and Alison seem to hit it off quite well. They come from two different worlds; she came from a wealthy family, and he came from nothing. But then, Emily reminds herself, that's not so different to herself. Alison and Caleb talk about computer programming - Emily has no idea when she had the time to learn something like that, but she doesn't ask - and their mutual disdain for organized religion, and after a while Alison's even comfortable talking to Emily outside the group. She gradually starts to talk to Emily one-on-one, and although Emily feels - hopes - that she's closets to herself, Alison and Caleb do get along well.

Hanna is the last one to warm up to her. For the first week Hanna keeps her distance, and after the incident with the word 'kidnapped' she seems even less willing to interact with the new girl. But Caleb slowly talks her into it, and Hanna soon learns which topics are safe to bring up. She and Alison like some of the same music and movies, and as Alison becomes more sure of herself she puts more effort into her appearance, adding a bow here and a ribbon there, and Hanna starts to appreciate the other girl's sense of style. Emily hears them taking about a couple of trips to the mall, and Hanna even invites Alison to a sleepover at one point; Alison politely declines, but Emily can see she's flattered by the offer. The event that seals the deal, however, happens about two weeks into it. Aria is talking about her history project, and she ends up getting a date wrong. Alison corrects her, which Hanna finds hilarious; she and Alison share a laugh, and from that moment on they seem to be on the same page a lot of the time.

As for Emily, she's still not sure where she stands with Alison. She's talking to Emily more, and she even offered to tutor her in French if she needed it; the fact that Alison's confident enough to do so makes Emily a little less worried about her - she's not sure why, but whenever she's around Alison she has a slight sense of impending doom, like her world or Alison's is about to come crashing down - and when she starts answering questions in class out loud, Emily's almost as happy for her as she is for herself.

After a while Alison starts interacting more with other people too. She doesn't go out of her way to talk to people she doesn't know, but she stops shying away from conversations with those who initiate them. A few times Emily sees her talking to someone in the gym, or hanging out by someone else's locker and chatting with them while they get their textbooks out. Alison especially starts to talk to Spencer and Toby, who do their best to make her feel welcome. They pair up with her for group projects in class, greet her in the halls, talk to her in the line at the cafeteria.

Emily is glad Alison has such caring people looking out for her, but the small pessimistic voice in her head starts to make her wonder if maybe she should back off. Alison doesn't seem to need her; she was there to help her start speaking again, and Emily was the first person she opened up to, but what if Alison doesn't need her help anymore? What if she's smothering Alison? Yet every time she thinks that, Emily finds her coming back to her, whether with a look, a smile, or a friendly word, and it makes Emily feel like maybe, just maybe, she finally means something to someone.

It also gives her a nice distraction from Nate. Her uncle is still adamant that they should get along, and he's almost aggressively trying to produce some kind of truce between them. Nate is resistant, and Emily even more so; she had no desire to reconnect with the person who made last year hell for her. Her aunt, at least, seems to understand this, and occasionally she'll intervene and tell her uncle to ' let the kids work it out for themselves.' She's never really been that close to her, but at times like this Emily is grateful for her input.

A strange sort of peace settles for Emily and the rest of her group. Their new member hasn't changed the dynamics too much, and she's starting to think that maybe things will be okay. Alison is incredibly bright, and if Emily looks beyond the ghosts haunting her eyes, she thinks she can see the passionate girl she used to be. Knowing that someone as damaged as Alison finds comfort in friendship with her, knowing that she's helped her even a little, and hardly ever lets herself remember what it was like without Alison before. It was like someone had been missing from their group, only they hadn't noticed. And now that she's here, Emily wouldn't have it any other way.

Emily gets so used to seeing Alison every day that the first day she's absent, she feels a lurch at the sight of her empty chair. She tells herself not to worry, that Alison is probably just sitting with Toby and Spencer, but she asks around and finds out that nobody's seen her all day. The first day Emily doesn't worry much, but the days slip by and her anxiety grows. She has no way of contacting her, but Aria and Hanna, who both have her number, trying calling and texting her. There's no response, and by the time a week has passed, Emily is not the only one who's worried. Aria and Hanna start whispering about it, and Spencer even asks Emily if she's heard from Alison.

She hasn't, and she can't shake away the feeling that something bad might of happened to Alison.


	11. Chapter 11

"Are you sure you don't want me to come?" Spencer asks, handing over the slip of paper, "I could help make sure you get to the right place.

Emily shakes her head, her eyes drifting past Spencer's shoulders landing on Toby, who's impatiently waiting by Spencer's car. "You've got your own things to do," she says amiably. "I've got this."

Spencer bites her lip, seemingly torn between going with Toby and helping Emily. After a quick glance back at her boyfriend, who's all smiles and bright energy, she relents. "Okay. Call me if you need anything?"

"Of course."

The words have barley left her mouth before Spencer scampers off to her boyfriend, and the two march hand-in-hand out of the school gates. Then Emily climbs onto her bike, tucking the slip of paper into her pocket, and rides out of school. She's not entirely sure this is a good idea, but no one's heard from Alison in over a week, and she figures since someone needs to find out what happened it may as well be her.

The problem was that nobody knew Alison's address. What she has in her pocket is a list of clues that Spencer can remember about Alison's house. Alison told them a bit about it, mentioning what it looks like roughly where it is, but she hasn't been here long enough to memorize the actual street and number . It's not too far from the school, so it doesn't take Emily long to get roughly to the right place - the street next to a church and behind an old bowling alley, according to Spencer's intel.

She slows down, doing a lap of the cul-de-sac before jumping down from her bike and leaning against a fence so she can look at the note again, There are only a few points, but it should be enough to identify the house. There's a flower garden below the windows - Alison had talked about how sometimes her and her mother weeded it together and her father would bring them lemonade. Purple drapes in the front windows, the same color as the shirt she wore the first day of school. A mailbox in the shape of a cat and a white picket fence in the front.

It only takes a minute to locate the house, but it takes another five for Emily to talk herself into approaching it. She wheels her bike beside her, the wheels making a gentle clicking noise as they roll over the pavement, and her heart making much less comforting thudding sound. She hopes nothing has happened - it's Rosewood, after all; aside from that one murder, the town hasn't seen any major tragedies - but there's something about Alison that makes her worry. She wonders if it's because she knows Alison has gone through something terrible, and even though lighting never strikes twice, tragedy often does.

Yet logic tells her it's probably something simple, something trivial. And if it is, what will Alison think of her, turning up unannounced at her doorstep? She can only hope Alison will see the action for what it is - an innocent visit inspired by concern, rather than anything more sinister. In a way Emily feels like she's always trying to sidestep Alison's ghosts, but she's entirely sure where or what they are or could be. Alison been through some unspeakable, and if she wants to avoid hurting her, she needs to tread carefully.

When she reaches the picket fence she stops, gently leans her bike against it, and walks slowly up to the front door. Before she can even knock, the door swings open and she's met with the sight of a guy much younger than she'd anticipated and much less welcoming than she's hoped. He's well-dressed, in a button up shirt, his hair messy and one eyebrow raised in an expression that clearly says, _What are you doing here?_

He has this lightly off-putting manner as Alison, but where Alison is guarded, this man seems to almost openly hostile.

"H-hi," Emily manages to choke out. "My name's Emily Fields. I'm- I'm a friend of Alison's. Is she home?

The guy leans against the door giving her a suspicious look. "How do you know her?"

She's taken aback at the intensity of his expression and the perceived challenge in his choice, but she does her best to keep her voice level as she replies, "From school. We have a couple of classes together."

"Hm." The guy doesn't seem impressed, but at least now she knows she's at the right house. And he doesn't seem too stressed, only mildly irritated, so that's a good sign - if something had happened to Alison, surely this guy would be more upset. "Well. Come in then. I'm not sure she's up to seeing visitors, but I'll got check."

Emily follows him into the living room and sits down on the chair he gestures to, doing her best to seem unintimidated by the stateliness of the house. While the guy - who still hasn't introduced himself - goes upstairs, she looks around the room. The walls are an off-white, and the mantelpiece above the fireplace looks decorated with trophies. There are a few photos hanging on the wall above it, mostly of Alison and her parents and the guy who'd opened the door - she assumes it's her brother, given the photos and the physical resemblance. There's no mess on the floor, no clutter on the coffee-table. nothing, out of place or looking even the slightest bit old. It's so different to her own temporary house that she finds hard to feel comfortable in.

"Alison says you can go up and see her," the guy says, titling his head as he looks at her. She wonders what he's thinking about; he looks at her intently, like he's trying to figure out if she has some ulterior motive. "She seemed almost excited so see you, actually."

He sounds confused and even curious - maybe Alison doesn't get many visitors - but he doesn't ask any more questions.

As Emily stands up and goes to the stairs, he instructs. "Third door on the left," gives her one last look, then settles down on the couch and starts browsing through his phone.

Turning away from him, Emily makes her way up the stairs. Part of her want to leave now - she knows Alison is okay, and isn't that what she came for? Then her brother's words echo in Emily's head: she seemed almost excited to see you. Alison wants to see her. She's not intruding, she's just a friend checking up on her.

Yet hesitation sets in again when she reaches Alison's room. There's a gold A hanging on the door, and she stares at it for a moment while she chides herself for being so hesitant. What's the worst that can happen? She reaches out and knocks on the door, then quickly withdraws her hand.

"Come in."

The voice is barley audible, but it's enough of an invitation. She scrunches up the piece of paper Spencer gave her, and steps into the room. Alison is lying on her bed, the covers pulled up to her chin, and half her hair falling around her shoulders. She looks pale and miserable, and Emily feels a pang of sympathy.

"Hi," Alison says, watching as Emily carefully leaves the door ajar and then stands there, unsure what to do. She gestures to the chair beside her bed. "You can sit, if you want."

Emily does, resting her hands on her thighs and wondering what to say. "I haven't seen you at school," she begins, and then expects Alison to laugh at her stating the obvious.

Instead Alison spreads her arms wide, indicating the bed and her condition. "I haven't really been up to it," she says. "Go figure, I finally start talking again, even make new friends, and then I get knocked down by the flu."

Emily gives her a sympathetic smile. "So you've been stuck at home for a week?"

"Unfortunately. See this pile of books?" She points to the stack beside her, which is probably more than Emily had read this past year. "I've gone through all of them this week."

She raises her eyebrows, impressed. "You were that bored, hu?"

"Bored?" Alison echoes. "No. That's just a normal week for me."

Emily finds herself laughing - not because Alison's joking, but precisely because she's not. There are very few people she knows who would read such a large amount of books, and even fewer who would admit to it.

"So," Alison says sitting up straighter and smoothing the bed sheets around her, "what brings you to my office?"

Now that Emily's here it seems almost embarrassing to admit it. What had she thought, that Alison been kidnapped or something? Of course she's sick. That's the most common reason for teenagers to miss school, and it should have been her first instinct. But Emily feels like her senses are on high alert, and something about Alison simultaneously puts her on edge and makes her feel calm. "I noticed you weren't at school, and was... worried. I just came to see if you were okay."

She frowns, and Emily can't tell if Alison's touched by her concern or trying to work of if she's for real. Finally she says. "You were worried?"

Emily ducks her head, scuffing the floor with the toe of her shoe. "Yeah."

"That's sweet," she says, her voice equal parts disbelief and wonder. "Did you think... something bad happened?"

Emily's eyes snap up to hers. Is she that easy to read? "I didn't... I mean, it's Rosewood. It's possible, after what happened here last year..."

It's only when Alison's eye darken that she realizes what she's said. Emily just told the survivor of a traumatic experience that the town she moved to might not be as safe as she thought.

"I'm sorry," Emily says quickly. "I didn't mean to scare you -"

'It's okay," she interrupts gentle, and Emily stops speaking at once. "I read about it, I think. A girl was murdered, right? Shana Fring?"

Emily is surprised she's heard of it, but then again, it's pretty big news in Rosewood. It's the first murder the town's had in twenty years, and even though most of the hype has died down, people still talk about it.

"Did you know her?" Alison asks.

Emily shrugs, thinking back to the few times they'd actually spoken. They had never been friends - she wasn't even sure if Shana had friends - but she hadn't exactly been a stranger either. "Not as well as people thought."

She's not sure whether it's the bitterness in her tone or the slight scowl on her face that gives her away, but Alison picks up on her unease.

"What do you mean?"

At the question, Emily finds herself stiffening. She's used to interrogations and accusations, but this, being asked a questioned simply because somebody wants to know more about her - this is new to her. "After Shana went missing, some people thought... well we got into this big argument before she did about swimming .. they thought that I..."

Even after all this time, the words stick in her throat. But Alison puts the pieces together.

"They thought that you killed her?" Alison's eyes are wide, seemingly with horror.

Emily nods slowly, and prepares herself for Alison to withdraw. She's going to realize why people hate her, why she's an outcast, why for an entire week last year she'd come into school and found fresh graffiti on her locker, with words like KILLER and MURDERER spray-painted onto it. Alison is going to rethink her opinion about her, because who wouldn't? She should have told Alison - or maybe she should have told her sooner.

"That's crazy," Alison says at last, catching Emily completely off-guard. "You could never kill someone."

Emily's so stunned that she's speechless for a moment; she meets her eyes and sees nothing but sincerity. Then she lets out a nervous laugh. "Well, it's good to hear somebody say that."

Alison's apparent trust in her is overwhelming. She's barley known Alison a month, but she's been more loyal to her that half of her so-called friends. When Shana went missing - and then her body turned up - rumors started flying, and Emily was the prime target.

Emily's never been incredibly popular, but she'd lost most of the few acquaintances she'd had. She was never sure whether they just wanted to avoid the potential backlash over being her friend. Hanna and Spencer were the only ones who'd resolutely stood by her side. She lets herself wonder for the briefest instant what it would have been like if Alison had been in Rosewood when Shana was murdered - would she have stood by her? Or would she have abandoned her like everyone else?

Alison smiles at her, and she can't even find the words to thank Alison for her confidence in her. Instead Emily seeks the change the topic of conversations, and her eyes fall on a book sitting on the tops of her pile. She picks it up flipping it over to read the back cover. "An anthology of the words of J.D Salinger," she says. "Are you liking it so far?"

"Yeah," Alison replies and Emily wonders if she's even capable of disliking a book. "Not quite as much as Great Expectations, but it's still good."

"Great Expectations is one of my favorites." Emily places the book back on the top of the pile, catching a glimpse of Alison out of the corner of her eye. She doesn't quite manage to hide her surprise.

"You've read it?" she asks, and Emily can tell she's trying her best not to sound incredulous.

Emily enjoys the fact that she can apparently surprise her. "Four times," she says. "I want to re-rad it but the library lost their only copy."

Before she has time Alison flings back the covers, and murmurs, "Hang on," and hurries over to her bookshelf. She's little wobbly on her feet, and Emily can see the toll this flu has taken on her. But Alison's smile is bright when she turns back around, offering a leather-bound book. "Here," she says. "You can borrow my copy."

Emily starts to protest, but Alison comes over to her an puts it gently in her hands. It feels heavy but not unpleasant, and it smells the way a book should: slightly musty, familiar yet exciting. Emily tucks it close to her chest, no words enough to explain how much this means to her. That somebody like Alison, someone so far out of her league - just look at her house, with it's perfect drapes and it's clean carpet and it's fancy upholstery - would trust Emily with something so significant to her means more than she can say.

"I'll take good care of it," Emily promises.

"I should hope so," she says, a teasing smile gracing her features.

The sudden exertion of retrieving the book seems to have worn Alison out, and she takes a deep breath, looking suddenly pale, and quickly climbs back into bed. And although Emily isn't really looking, she notices the way that the hem of her shirt catches on her sheets, riding up slightly as Alison pills them back up. And as she does so, Emily sees the edge of something, a mark on her skin - a tattoo, or a scar? It looks deliberate, and although Emily can only see a couple of strokes, she doubts it came about through a simple fall or operation.

Then the sheets cover Alison again, and she looks at Emily pleasantly, unaware of her having see more than perhaps Alison wanted her to see.

"So," Alison says, and Emily feels her heart flutter with expectation, "not that I'm not happy to see you, but since you took the effort to come all the way out to my house, please tell me you at least brought me my homework too?"


	12. Chapter 12

**Such a slow burn... but patience is key.**

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><p>By Monday morning, Alison is finally well enough to go back to school. She still feels a little shaky, and physical exertion soon makes a couple of her milder symptoms flare up, but she's already missed over a week of class and she can't afford to miss any more. Even if she could, she wouldn't want to – school is her safe haven, and now that she has a group to sit with she finds that lunch, which has always been her least favorite period, is almost enjoyable.<p>

As she's sitting at the kitchen table and slicing an apple into equal parts, she hears footsteps on the stairs. She doesn't need to turn to know that it's her brother; she can tell by the way he walks, confident and with something close to a bounce. She had been like that once – full of life and ambition. She doesn't like to think about that now.

"Good morning," Jason greets her as he makes his way over to the fridge. "Sleep well?"

Alison shrugs. Although she prefers not to speak about it, she knows that her family is aware of her nightmares. They'd started the very night she came home, and although they're less frequent now, they're not always less intense. Last night she'd only had one, and it hadn't been clear. There were shadowy shapes and a high-pitched wailing in the distance, and she'd woken up in a cold sweat. That was three hours ago, and she's spent the intervening time reading by the light of her lamp. If it weren't for coffee she probably wouldn't have enough energy to even get to school. "Okay, I guess," she says noncommittally.

"Dial down the enthusiasm, Ali," Jason teases, sitting down across from her and dumping a spoonful of sugar into his coffee. Both of them watch steam curl off from the cup, eating their food and thinking their thoughts and drinking their coffee. "So," Jason says, taking a sip, "do you have any classes with Emily today?"

Alison's head jerks up and she looks at her brother, surprised. It's been so long since Jason took an active interest in her life; although she knows her brother cares, it's mostly the fact that Jason had been so unsure around her that he'd taken to keeping her at a distance. It had been worst in the first few weeks after she was home, after… everything. Jason had so desperately wanted to help her, but any time he spoke to her Alison burst into tears. Alison had felt bad about it, but time went by and she still couldn't bring herself to say a word, let alone explain to her brother how sorry she was and how much she needed his help.

She's never been able to admit to anyone that she needed help. It's not that she thinks she can handle everything by herself – it's that she thinks she should be able to. And in forcing herself to do it alone, she hopes that she'll rise to the challenge and achieve things she would otherwise never have even attempted. Still, there are times when it would have been wiser to seek help. That night in August, for example, when her brother had found her standing on the bridge with her arms outstretched, toes curled over the edge, and tears streaming down her face.

She shouldn't need help, she should be independent and self-sufficient, and so her first response to her bother's question is to shut down. "Why do -" she starts to ask, answering a question with another question being one of hid favorite tactics. But then she sees Jason's face, the sincerity in his expression, and reminds herself that her brother is only trying to be friendly. She clears her throat and says instead, "Yeah, a couple."

"Hmm." Jason runs a finger along the rim of his cup. "She seems nice."

Alison can see the sideways look her brother is giving her, but she chooses to ignore it. She busies herself by taking her empty cup to the sink. As she scrubs it out, Jason says from behind her, "I thought you didn't really like anyone at school. You seemed to think they were shallow or something."

After she'd first started speaking again, her entire family had been in such shock that they hadn't spoken for at least ten minutes. Then they'd bombarded her with questions, apparently hoping that if they kept her talking for long enough she'd break through her own barriers and connect with the world again. They seemed to think that if she stopped talking for even an instant it would mean a full regression. When the questions finally subsided she'd trudged up to her room and collapsed on the bed, worn out and inexplicably terrified.

But gradually she became more used to talking, and once Jason was sure this wasn't some attempt to make them stop worrying about her, that she was really truly making an effort to move forward, he'd started talking to her more. They'd never really been close, but these past few weeks they've had a few good conversations. Spencer asks about Jason's new internship in the mayor's department, and Jason asks Alison about school. Has she made any friends yet? Is she liking the classes? How are the teachers? They talk about books they've read and movies they've seen, and Alison can almost imagine that she's just a normal girl.

She turns back to Jason now, thoughtful. She doesn't like most of the people in her year – they seem superficial, concerned with popularity and things she long ago stopped caring about. But Emily, and the rest of her group – Caleb, Aria, even Hanna – aren't the same. She doesn't quite feel comfortable around them yet, but she would only hesitate ever so slightly to call them _friends_. "She's different," she says softly, and she can _feel_ how true that is.

Jason cocks his head, giving her a measured look. "How?"

"There's something about her that's… I don't know."

"Wow." Jason gathers his bag from his feet, dumps his empty cup into the sink, and gives Alison a smirk. "A question even Alison DiLaurentis can't answer."

Then he tosses Alison a smile and flounces from the room. Alison is tempted to sit here a while longer, but then she catches sight of the time and realizes she has to get going. She finishes getting ready, humming to herself; now that she's started talking again, silence is almost unbearable at times. She tries not to remember how she used to fill the silence when she was… away. Despite countless therapists telling her not to repress and to let herself _feel_ and _heal _and _move on_, she can't quite bring herself to relive those seemingly endless days locked in that cabin.

All thoughts of That Time flee from her mind as she arrives at school, where Hanna and Aria greet her immediately and start babbling on about the Rosewood Charity Ball and who they're going with and what they're going to wear. Hanna is going with Caleb, of course, and Aria has managed to snag a date with Noel. Alison smiles and congratulates them, and for just a moment wonders who Emily is going with.

The other development, aside from Aria's love life, is the fact that the people in charge of Rosewood High have decided that 'given recent events and some upsetting incidents' they're going to hold a Getting To Know You weekend, to which Alison's entire grade is invited – and expected to attend. Nobody seems thrilled about it, but to Alison the thought is terrifying.

She's only just become vaguely comfortable around her peers; she's only had one panic attack the whole time she's been at school, and she'd like to keep it that way. But the thought of staying here overnight, in the dark, with all these people she hardly knows, is enough to make her heart palpitate wildly and her palms start to get sweaty.

"You okay, Alison?" Aria asks at lunch, frowning at her because she can't understand why a GTKY (the administration seems to think that kids these days respond more positively to acronyms than full names – thankfully they're not tacky enough to give it a slogan at least) weekend would be such a big deal.

"I'm fine," Alison says, but she knows the others aren't going to buy it.

"Are you -" Aria starts, presumably intending on finishing with 'sure?' or 'okay?', but she's interrupted by the arrival of Emily and Caleb.

Alison nods in greeting to both of them, using the temporary distraction to end the conversation with Aria. She may be speaking again, but that doesn't mean she can talk about her feelings or her fears or anything of more consequence than a homework assignment or a sale at the mall.

As they both get settled, she notices the tip of a very familiar leather-bound book sticking out the top of Emily's backpack. There's a bookmark in it, about a quarter of the way through, which means she must have read some over the weekend. Emily catches her eye, sees what she's looking at, and smiles. Alison thinks back to Emily's visit to her house while she was sick, and it makes her insides squirm a little – but she doesn't know if it's because she hates that Emily saw her so vulnerable and unwell, or because she's still pleased that she came to check up on her. And she wonders if she's happy anyone came to check on her, or because it was Emily specifically. Would she have felt the same if it had been Hanna, or Spencer?

She doesn't let herself think of that for too long. Conversation flows around her, and for now she's content to let it wash over her. She'll answer when someone asks her a question and laugh at all the right points, but she doesn't contribute much. And unlike her parents, who even now pester her to talk at every opportunity, her group (_friends_, she reminds herself) are just happy she's there. It's a strange feeling, being accepted without being expected to have something to say in response to everything, or have an answer to every question or a solution to every problem. It's almost relaxing. And, for the first time in a long time, Alison can almost remember what it feels like to have friends.

But when she gets home that afternoon and sees who's waiting on her doorstep, she remembers why she gave up on having friends in the first place.

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><p><strong>AN: Who do you think is at Alison's door?**


	13. Chapter 13

**So no one has guessed who's on Alison's porch.. what a shame but the answer will come to light shortly.**

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><p>"I don't see why this is necessary." Emily is standing by the sink, her back to her uncle who is sitting at the table, casually reading a newspaper and insisting that Emily take Nate to school.<p>

"I already signed the permission forms," Mr. Smith says. "This Getting To Know You weekend or whatever it is sounds like a good idea, and I think it will -"

"Not that," Emily interrupts, setting down the sponge she'd been using to clean out her bowl and turning to face her uncle. "I don't see why I need to drive Nate to it. He has friends, doesn't he?"

"Yes, and he also has a cousin who will lose her swimming privileges if she doesn't drive him to school today."

Emily resists the urge to roll her eyes, but she does mutter, "_not my cousin_."

Either her uncle doesn't hear it or decides to ignore it, because he just turns his attention back to his paper and says in a voice that makes it clear he's not to be argued with, "You should leave in a few minutes if you want to get there in time."

Frustrated, Emily makes her way up to her guest room. Apparently it's not bad enough she has to go to school on a Saturday; she also has to drive her insufferable cousin there. Her uncle is still convinced they're going to become the best of friends, and keeps throwing them together every chance he gets: asking them to do the dishes, inviting them to go bowling with him, encouraging them to study in the living room together each afternoon. Emily can't understand where he's coming from. After everything that happened last year, she'd have thought her uncle would have wanted them to stay as far away from each other as possible.

"Leaving in five minutes," Emily says, knocking on Nate's door. She doesn't wait for a response before she goes to her own room, shoving some clothes and a toothbrush into a bag. She's not sure what this GTKY weekend will involve, but they were told to bring paper, a pen, and some kind of object that's significant to them.

Her eyes sweep around the room. Most of what she has is easily replaceable and not very dear to her. She doesn't have many cool things, or possessions with her at all really, and the few things she has that she really likes are too big to take into school. She shoves her hands in her pockets and sits on the bed, thinking about what to bring. Then she spots her favorite pair of swimming googles, and she realizes that they never said it had to have a positive significance. Those googles definitely mean something to her, even if it's not something she'll easily share.

That problem sorted, she gets to her feet again and grabs her overnight bag. She's halfway to the door before she glances back, and sees her backpack. Alison's copy of Great Expectations (changed the book name) is poking out the top, her bookmark about four fifths of the way through. She's been reading it every day after school, and sometimes during her free periods; once she even tried to read it at lunch, but Hanna teasingly told her off while Alison giggled and Aria rolled her eyes.

She hesitates just a second, and then reaches down and picks it up. As she places it gently in her bag, tucking it between a pair of jeans and a clean shirt so it won't be damaged, she's reminded of how strange Alison has been acting this week. The first day she was back, she seemed like she was okay. She's over her flu now, but she still doesn't seem like herself. On Tuesday she was strangely quiet; not mute-for-two-years quiet, but there's-something-I'm-not-saying quiet. Emily tried to find her alone so she could ask if everything was okay, but she'd been hard to pin down. Emily can't shake the feeling that maybe she's been avoiding her, because aside from a few quick conversations, she hasn't really spoken to Emily all week. Wednesday she seemed brighter, but she still wouldn't meet Emily's eyes. Emily tried asking Aria if she knew what was wrong, but neither she nor Hanna had any idea. Spencer and Toby hadn't noticed any difference in her, which means that it was probably something to do with the group – or Emily.

As she knocks on Nate's door again, threatening to leave without him if he's not ready, she contemplates what she possibly could have done to make Alison so distant. Had she said something? Done something? Neglected to say or do something she should have? Is she being selfish or paranoid in thinking that she could have caused such a pronounced effect?

Nate emerges from his room with an uncharacteristically bright smile on his face. "All set," he announces, and leads the way downstairs.

Emily follows without a word. She's equal parts relieved and confused by Nate's attitude; he's rarely this happy, which automatically makes her suspicious, but it also means she won't have to endure any of him sulking or moodiness.

"So, are you looking forward to getting to know your peers?" Nate asks as Emily pulls out of the driveway.

She gives him a sideways look, silently trying to communicate how irritated she is by his attempt to initiate conversation. She considers not answering him, but if she doesn't at least try to play along Nate will probably report back to his parents that she's being difficult and her uncle will not be to pleased. Digging her nails into the steering wheel, she replies neutrally, "It should be interesting."

He laughs, as if she's said something funny rather than bordering on cynical. "It certainly should be."

Apparently Emily's stony gaze, which she keeps locked on the road ahead, is enough to deter him from asking any more questions. By the time they reach the school Emily is already tempted to turn around and drive right back home, but the permission slips are all signed and if she doesn't turn up now the school will call her uncle. She pulls into the parking lot, still thinking about how every single move on her part seems to lead to the threat of not being able to swim , and is taken by surprise when somebody taps on her window.

"Emily!" Hanna exclaims, opening the car door and waiting for her to get out. "I checked the roster, and apparently we're in the same group. Sign-up's in the cafeteria, and then our first activity is in the chem labs for some reason."

She waits while Emily gets her bag out of the trunk, and neither of them even look at Nate as he grabs his own bag and marches off towards the building. They wait a few seconds before following.

"Your uncle still insisting you guys hang out?" Hanna asks, and she frowns when Emily nods her head. "It's like he expects things to go back to 'normal'. Like he wants you to just kiss and make up or something."

Emily's step falters slightly, and she can sense the exact moment Hanna realizes how unfortunate her choice of words was. The other girl's frown turns into a look of mortified horror.

"I didn't mean -"

"It's fine," Emily interjects. She knows why Hanna feels awkward; she's one of few people who knows the full extent of what happened last year. Or at least as full an account as Emily had been prepared to give. Not many other people would have been able to understand why Emily had internally flinched at the wording.

Hanna looks like she wants to reply, but they've reached the building and are now caught up in the tide of Rosewood High students heading to the cafeteria. The babble of talk is too loud for the girls to be able to hear each other, so they just trudge along with the rest. Once Emily gets her group assignment – Group C, which means they get to start with 'trust exercises and truth activities' – she and Hanna make their way to the chem lab.

It's almost full by the time they get there, so they slide into two empty seats at the back and try not to show how much they dislike being here. From past experience Emily knows that teachers tend to zero in on the people who look the least pleased, and she'd be content just to get through this weekend without drawing any attention to herself.

After a few minutes the teacher walks in, and Emily recognizes it as Mrs. Montgomery, Aria's mother. She's glad it's her and not someone like Mr Applebee, with whom she seems to always be on bad terms even though as far as she can remember she's never misbehaved in his class, or Ms Gold, who tends to quote obscure literature and then get offended when nobody gets it. Mrs Montgomery is nice enough, and should make this first activity bearable at least.

She comes to a stop behind the desk at the front of the room, surveys the collection of students in front of her, and gives them a resigned sort of smile. "All right, everyone. I know you guys don't want to be here, but if you work with me this won't be nearly as painful as you're expecting it to be. If we get through the activities quickly – and honestly – then you might get some extra time for lunch. If, on the other hand, you choose to fool around or play games, I have been given the authority to cut your lunch hour in half, and I will not hesitate to do so. Are we clear?"

An assortment of nods and mumbles of agreement seem to be all she needs as confirmation, because she nods curtly, and then reaches into her bag and starts searching through it. She pulls out an envelope, which she passes to the person in front of the class.

"This envelope contains each of your names," Mrs Montgomery says. "You will each pull out one name at random, and your task is to find that person, and find out one interesting fact about them. Understood?"

She waits for the class to agree, and then leans against her desk while the envelope makes its way around the class. Hanna draws out James Littleton, who's a skinny kid with a bad haircut and an even worse attitude, and then hands the envelope to Emily, who glances around the room before sticking her hand inside and pulling out a piece of paper. There's not really anyone she'd want to find out anything about in this class; she can't see anyone else from her group, or even Toby or Spencer. With a shrug she pulls out a name and passes the envelope on.

"Who'd you get?" Hanna asks, peering over Emily's shoulder as she unrolls the piece of paper.

"Lucas," Emily replies, looking around the room. Lucas is sitting by the window, staring out it with a vacant expression. He's looking about as interested as Emily feels.

The envelope finishes its rounds and Mrs Montgomery claps her hands and tells them all to get to it. Emily reluctantly gets to her feet and weaves through the crowd until she reaches Lucas, who hasn't moved and doesn't even look up when she approaches.

Emily clears her throat and holds up the slip of paper with Lucas' name on it. "I got you," she said. "Tell me something interesting about yourself."

Lucas turns to face her, his dark hair falling into his eyes and his expression a mixture between boredom and disdain. Emily is almost offended until she realizes it's directed at this activity and this whole GTKY weekend, not her. "I make and sell model airplanes," Lucas says. "Currently I have a collection of about fifty, but I'm about to sell around half of them. I use the money I get from them to buy more photography equipment so I can follow my dream of becoming a world-renowned underwater photographer, falling in love with a mermaid, and ruling my own underwater kingdom."

"How much of that was true?" Emily asks. She hasn't spoken to Lucas in a while, and she'd almost forgotten his sense of humor.

Lucas laughs, and Emily joins in. So maybe not all of her peers are so bad.

"The first part is true," Lucas says. "About the model airplanes. Not so much the underwater palace."

"Shame. It sounded like a pretty cool dream."

"Doesn't it though?" Lucas says, still laughing. Then he sighs, getting to his feet and pulling his piece of paper out of his pocket. "I suppose I should go find my person. See you."

As soon as Lucas trudges off, and Emily is approached by one of the girls from the field hockey team (her name is Joanna, he thinks, or it could be Julia; she's not sure), and she tells her about swimming and how she hopes to make it big someday. Joanna or whatever her name is nods, satisfied, and leaves. Emily then goes back to her seat, and a moment later Mrs Montgomery calls the activity to a close.

"I'm not going to be asking about the facts you found out, but you will be expected to remember them," she says cryptically. "You'll understand later. Now, it's time to move onto the next activity. This time the envelope I'm passing around has a set of numbers, two of each. There seems to be an even number, so this should effectively split you up into pairs. This is a trust exercise, and I'll explain how it works once you're in your pairs."

She hands around the envelope, and Emily draws out the number four. Hanna pulls out a seven, and she looks around to see who else has it. Once people draw out their numbers they hold them up, so their partner can find them. Hanna's partner is a Tracy, who's sitting up the back. Hanna catches her eye and she waves, beckoning her over.

"Good luck," Hanna mumbles as she goes over to her.

Emily looks down at her number and then back up again. She scans the room, and then she sees who else has the number four. Her luck is not as good as Hanna's. Because the person Emily is paired with is none other than Chris Miller, the guy she'd punched at Noel's party because he threatened Alison. This is not going to be fun.

Chris stares at Emily, and Emily stares at Chris, and the rest of the class goes about their business, oblivious to the tension rising in the corner. Gradually a couple of people glance over, and they're clearly aware of what went down between the two of them. It's common knowledge in the school by now; not many people have taken Chris on, and even fewer have come out on top, so Emily is semi-famous in the halls of Rosewood High. But Chris still has some supporters, and Emily notices a couple of people looking her way and clenching their fists as a warning.

"So," Emily says, meeting Chris' eyes and resisting the urge to punch him again. "I guess we're working together for this one."

"Looks like," Chris replies, refusing to look away until Emily does.

"Let's get this moving, guys," Mrs Montgomery encourages, gesturing for the class to hurry up and get into their groups. "This one's a short exercise, and there's only two more after it. So if we get through them quickly you can go to lunch early. How does that sound?"

Reluctantly Emily sits down in the nearest seat, and Chris sits beside her. They've gone from staring each other down to refusing to look at each other, and Emily can feel tension prickle along her skin. The last time she'd been this close to Chris, her fist had been connecting with his face. As far as she knows Chris hasn't given Alison any trouble since then, but that doesn't lessen her antagonistic feelings towards the guy.

"So for this activity," Mrs Montgomery explains, "you'll all be required to place a certain amount of trust in your partner. I assume you all brought your significant items?"

A few people nod, a couple even produce their objects from their pockets or bags, and most, like Emily and Chris, just stare at Mrs Montgomery and silently hope that she gets this over with soon.

"The idea of this exercise is quite simple," she says. "You are to hand over your significant object to your partner. Don't explain what it is or why it means something to you. They have to take it on faith that it's important – and you have to trust that they'll take good care of it. You can ask for your object back at any time, but the sooner you do so the less of a reward you'll get – and I'm not just talking about that warm fuzzy feeling you get from trusting someone and not having them let you down. At the end of this week, anyone who still has their partner's significant object will be given a surprise reward."

Someone in the front row raises their hand and asks, "It's chocolate, isn't it?"

Mrs Montgomery chuckles. "Yes, it is," she admits unabashedly. "Now, I'll give you five minutes to swap over your objects, another five to talk about your feelings or whatever it is you're meant to be doing, and then we'll move on to a few other activities. Off you go."

There are many ways Emily would like to be spending her Saturday. On the top of the list is swimming, hanging out with Hanna, or even sleeping; right down the bottom, beneath getting stung by scorpions and disembowelled by rabid dogs, is this. Handing over something to Chris Miller, one of the last people Emily would ever want to talk to.

"Here." Chris digs into his pocket and pulls out a small toy race car. It's bright blue with a yellow stripe down the side, and it looks old, liked it's been used and loved and kept for a long time. "The last present my dad gave me before he was deployed," Chris offers by way of explanation, despite the fact Emily hasn't asked for any. He hands over the car, and Emily finds herself handling it gently, resting it on the table and admiring it. "If you break it, I will kill you."

Rather than responding to this, Emily runs a finger along the car, allowing herself to briefly wonder about Chris' past. Then she pulls out his own significant object, swimming googles. She gives it to Chris without a word. The story behind it isn't something she wants to get into with anyone, not even Hanna and especially not Chris.

"So what is this?" Chris asks, holding it between his thumb and forefinger and staring at it like he's looking for a hidden message or secret switch. "Some kind of momentum?"

"Memento," Emily corrects. "And yes."

"Of what?"

Over the years, Emily has mastered the art of ignoring people. It's not that she's malicious; it's just that if she wasn't good at tuning people out and making it clear that she doesn't want to talk, she would have been subjected to even more boredom, bullying, and other less than appealing things. Now she folds her arms, fixes her gaze on a smudge of ink just below the window, and says firmly, "It doesn't matter."

Chris opens his mouth, and then closes it again. Emily's body language is enough to deter him from asking any more questions. "Whatever," he says with a shrug. "I'll keep it safe."

He tucks it into his pocket, and Emily slides the car into her bag, and they fall back into tense silence. Mrs Montgomery does a lap of the room, checking that everyone is swapping their items, and then she glides up to the front and claps her hands to get everyone's attention. "Okay, everyone. Well done on successfully completing this exercise. Only three more and you can go to lunch. The first one is pretty fun, and I'm sure you're all familiar with it. We gather in a circle, and each say three facts about ourselves – only two of them true. Everyone else will take turns guessing which one is false. Since this room is a little crowded, I thought we'd move outside for this activity. So, follow me."

She leads the way out of the room, and it takes half a minute for most of the class, who have been daydreaming or whispering to each other, to realize she's gone. Then they hurry from their seats and scurry outside, eager for fresh air and any excuse not to be inside a classroom. Emily falls into step beside Hanna, deliberately leaving a lot of space between herself and Chris.

"I bet that was a bucket-load of fun," Hanna comments, nodding her head toward Chris, who is muttering to his friend - presumably about Emily.

"So much fun," Emily replies, rolling her eyes. "What significant object did your partner give you?"

Hanna waggles her finger disapprovingly. "Now, now, that's not the way to engender trust."

"_Engender_?" Emily repeats, raising an eyebrow. "What are you, Spencer?"

Hanna snickers, but her face becomes more serious as they skirt around another group, who are passing a tennis ball around their circle. " I know this is random but if you don't mind me asking what's up with Alison?" Hanna asks. "I mean, I know she's normally quiet, but she's been kind of… distant lately."

"I don't know." Emily watches as one of the students in the other group races off to get the ball, stumbles over a rock, and quickly glances around to see if anyone saw. "It's like she's not really here, you know? Even when I'm talking to her, I can never tell if she's actually listening."

"Deep," Hanna says, with a laugh that's halfway between sympathetic and patronising. "Maybe you should talk to her, though. Ask her what's really bugging her."

"What if she doesn't tell me?" Emily asks. "And on that note, what if she _does_? I'm not equipped to deal with…"

She trails off, caught between saying 'girls', 'emotions', and 'life'.

"Then you talk to her," Hanna says. "Be there for her. You're friends, right? That's what friends do."

"Right." Emily follows Hanna around the building; Mrs Montgomery has apparently decided that the back parking lot is the best place to play some kind of trust game or do a truth exercise or whatever it is this GTKY weekend is supposed to be about. As she does, Emily has a sudden vision of herself talking to Hanna about emotions and life and philosophy, and she suppresses a laugh.

They gather around in a circle, and Emily tunes out as Mrs Montgomery goes over the rules of the game again. She demonstrates, and the students all manage to pick out her lie; she does not, it turns out, have a strategically placed mermaid tattoo. But it's enough to get the ball rolling and make people laugh, and Tracy volunteers to have the first turn. When it gets to Emily's turn, she realizes she hasn't come up with anything. She racks her brain, aware that the rest of her group is staring at her.

"When I was five, I had a pet hamster called Captain Breadcrumb," she says slowly, beginning with the easiest: the truth. Well, the truth is supposed to be easy, although in her experience it tends to be more difficult than people let on. "My cousin tried to kill himself last year, and my uncle thought it was my fault. And, I would rather be swimming than stuck at school on a Saturday."

A titter of laughter follows her words, but most people are too caught up on the middle section of her confession. Mrs Montgomery's mouth is slightly parted, like she's not entirely sure this has just happened, and while she's busy processing it the students are busy reacting to it.

"Is she allowed to say that?"

"Is it even _true_?"

"Didn't s_he_ try to kill him?"

"Emily -" Mrs Montgomery says cautiously.

"Sorry," she mumbles, her sudden burst of courage deflating. She doesn't know what made her say it; maybe she's still put off by having to work with Chris, and she's in an argumentative mood. Maybe part of her is hoping that if someone argues she'll be able to take a swing at them. In retrospect punching Chris had been a very effective way to release her anger, but she wouldn't do that unprovoked. Not usually, anyway.

She raises her eyes and scans the group, waiting for someone to challenge her directly. A few people avert their gazes, and a few more mutter amongst themselves. Then Hanna says, "I'm calling bullshit. Your hamster wasn't called Captain Breadcrumb."

Emily is startled into laughter, and a couple of other people join in. "Yeah," Emily admits, "that one's fake. His name was actually Captain Butterball."

More laughter follows, including, to Emily's surprise, Chris. Even Mrs Montgomery seems amused. Then the mood becomes more serious again, and someone asks the question that Emily knew she'd have to answer. "So you didn't try to kill your cousin?"

Mrs Montgomery steps forward, intending on intervening, but Emily holds up a hand to indicate for her to stop. "It's okay," she says, and she comes to a halt. She takes a deep breath, and faces her peers.

Rumors have been floating around ever since Nate was carted off in an ambulance last year, and the leading theory at the time was that Emily had tried to kill him. It seems that even though people have stopped talking about it, not all of them have stopped thinking it. She's not sure why, but as she opens her mouth to set the record straight, she finds himself thinking for an instant of Alison, of her conviction and her assurance that Emily could never do that.

"No," she says firmly, facing the group. "I didn't try to kill my cousin last year. He tried to kill himself. I know you people don't trust easily, and you want to think the worst of me. But I didn't do that. So you can stop with your nicknames and your judgment and your accusing stares. And, just so you know, I also had nothing to do with the death of Shana Fring. The only thing I'm guilty of is apparently getting on your bad side, so throw stones if you want, but I'm not just going to stand here and take it."

Before anyone can react, she turns and starts to walk off. She's breathing hard, and she doesn't know where this outburst came from. But she knows it could easily escalate if she stays. She hears someone call her name from behind her, and then hurried footsteps. When the person is a step behind her she turns and sees Mrs Montgomery.

"I'm sorry," she says, embarrassed. After all this time she should be able to control her temper, and it frustrates her that it still gets the better of her sometimes. "I shouldn't have…"

"It's all right," Mrs Montgomery says, more gently. "This weekend is all about opening up and being honest, and that's what you did."

She blinks. "So I'm not in trouble?"

"Well, I wouldn't recommend going about all of your activities in that manner, but for now I'll let it slide." She smiles at Emily, and she finds herself smiling back. "Now, I think that's enough honesty for the moment. Why don't you sit the rest of this activity out. Go wait in the locker room or the library or something, and I'll send someone to come and get you when we move on."

Emily's eyes widen. Is she really being so nice to her without some ulterior motive? Is she being _rewarded_ for telling the truth? She doesn't want to push her luck, so she just quietly thanks her and then slips off to the building without another word. She follows the silence, walking through the halls until the noises from GTKY activities fade away, and then she sits down on a bench to wait it out – and to contemplate the implications of what she's just done.


End file.
